History
by Sweet as a Unicorn
Summary: History has been changed and the Capitol is responsible. Will this change remain secret like is has for so long? Or will it be leaked to the rest of Panem? SYOC/SYOT CLOSED!
1. Prologue

_Chapter 00_  
_'Prologue'_

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We aren't taught much in school about the history of our nation; of Panem. Our history books aren't all that descriptive and tend to lack the necessary photograph, instead opting for a crude painting. We are taught that the founding of Panem brought hope to a once desolate world. We also learned the origin of the Hunger Games, an annual massacre that each of the 12 districts of Panem are forced to compete in. How the Dark Days was brought about by the districts rebelling against the "generous" Capitol. How it had to be ended with the Treaty of Treason, which started the Hunger Games as punishment for future generations. We also learned of the second attempt of rebellion by the twelfth district.

A girl named Katniss, a horrible and ugly creature of a person, had been the instigator of this. We had never seen a true picture of her, but the painting in all our books portrayed her as a hideous wretch of a woman. Open sores covering her face, her body that of a walking skeleton, patches of hair missing. I am not entirely sure how accurate this is, but it is the only description I have of her. She had insulted the Capitol at every turn. She poached game outside of her district, which is illegal. After being reaped she shot an arrow at the Gamemakers and tried to kill them during her private session, which is illegal. I don't believe the Capitol is all that good myself, but I wouldn't try to kill them. Anyways, she ended up dying in the 74th Games she had been reaped for. Her death at the stingers of a nest of tracker jackers she had unwittingly tried to drop on a group of tributes set up below her. The stings had poisoned her and she had gone crazy. She ended up drowning after running madly off a small cliff into a lake.

This is the history we are taught. Again, I repeat that I am not entirely sure how accurate this is, but this is all we know. We only know what the Capitol deems worthy. Besides we have other things to worry about than if our history books are completely true. Like how we will be able to eat today. Or what the next reaping will bring.

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**Yes, history has changed. Or at least it has been by the Capitol. More to come on that. This is an SYOC and is currently ****CLOSED. R****eview! I heart reviews. I was going to make this about cloning, but I am saving that idea for a non-SYOC. This will be set during the 295th Hunger Games. Yes, almost 300 years since the Dark Days and like 221 years since Katniss.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank-you to ShotgunRain, DaughterofApollo7, RiftBlade00, ZTEBladeCM11, LittleBitNerdy, Dryad Mage, We're All Okay, The Pocketwatch Ripper, Obviously Entei, Imagination Heaven, and gorrillaface345 for submitting characters for this story. Even if your characters were not accepted, I appreciate that you took the time to make them.**

**A full and complete tribute list can be found on my profile under the "CREDITS FOR STORIES" section. Just search for "History" underneath the section.**

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_Chapter 01_  
_"District 12"_

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Our district has never been the wealthiest of districts. We are located away from the Capitol, away from the wealth, away from everything. That has hindered us a bit when it comes to growth. We don't have any electricity really, only enough for an hour of light in the afternoon. We don't have much food either, due to being so far away from people. But I think it is nice not being in the center like many of the other districts. It means that eyes aren't always on us. It gives us a break from being politically correct all the time. Now don't get me wrong, we are still being watched by the Capitol's watchdogs, the Peacekeepers, but rarely do they ever enforce small rules. They usually make sure we don't break major laws, but let us get away with breaking a few of the smaller, insignificant rules. That being said, when someone is caught breaking a big rule, they are punished severely for it.

I stood in the town center, which was usually a bright cheery place, but instead today I was surrounded by murky nothingness. A man, who had been caught trying to leave the district, stood on a pedestal in the center above everyone else. That was a big no-no; you never leave your home district unless given permission by the Capitol. Each district was surrounded by an electric fence to keep people in and everything else out. District 12 didn't have enough electricity to power the fence 24/7, but still the rule applied. You did not leave.

I watched with a few of my fellow mates as the man stood there, tied by his hands. Peacekeepers surrounded the pedestal. One in particular spoke to the crowd that had gathered to watch. It was required to watch public penance, either in person or on the television. Being that District 12 was so big, not everyone could watch it in person. I lived close to the town center, so I was able to see every lashing and hanging that was performed live. I never particularly found them entertaining, like a few people in the district did. Say it was my age, but I found them a bit hard to stomach and disturbing.

This man had tried to escape the district with his family. Probably to avoid the Hunger Games and I cannot blame him. If I could, I would avoid the death match myself, but the Capitol enforces it just like they enforce everything else. At the moment, the man was by himself. I didn't see his family anywhere, meaning they received separate punishment. From what the Peacekeepers were saying, the wife had been killed by wild animals. The children were taken away by the Capitol to be placed in a community home. I hate living in a community home myself, but am pretty happy they didn't kill the kids. That left only the father, who was now going to be punished for all of District 12 to see, including his kids.

My friend beside me, a younger girl named Peony, tapped my shoulder. She was only ten, but was as strong as any adult, at least mentally. Unlike most of us, she had gotten to know her parents well. Her mom had apparently been a hefty-built woman, but with a heart the bigger than the entire district. Her father was a coal miner and even though he would be gone most of the day for work, he would always come home with a smile. One Sunday while Peony was out with her friends, her house was broken into by some desperate lowlife. Her parents were still home and were attacked by the man. The man had appeared to be in withdrawal from morphling, which it is never a good idea to be around a morphling addict that has gone without their drug for so long. He wasn't as strong but still managed to injure Peony's parents. The man went to run away when he was sure they weren't able to chase him. What happened after that was all just a guess, but somehow the house was set aflame. I don't know how, with all the coal dust floating around, the entire district wasn't set ablaze. The house had burned down with Peony's parents inside, leaving her orphaned and alone in the world. The man who had killed her parents had been caught and charged with murder. He was never seen again. Peony was then put in the same community home I was in. When I first heard her story, I half expected her to be an emotional wreck, but she wasn't. She was smiling at everyone, trying to make friends with as many people as possible. I had asked what her deal was, no acted that happy to be put in a community home. No one acted that happy to have their parents die. She said she wasn't happy at all, instead was incredibly depressed. But she said that her parents' spirits were watching her now and that they would be sad to see her withdrawal from the world around her. She wanted her parents' spirits to be happy so she had to at least try to continue on.

Peony was only seven when she told me this and since then I have looked to her as the strongest person I knew. Even when the community home became too much for me and I had become depressed by the horrible condition I was living in, Peony had always been a ray of light. I don't know how she did it, but she always had.

"Myrtle? What are they going to do?" she asked me in a whispered tone.

Even from back where we stood, I could see a large wooden arm tower over the man. Hanging from the arm was a thick, heavy rope tied in a knotted loop. It was only obvious what was going to happen next. He was to be hanged.

"Isn't that the baker though?" Peony asked.

I couldn't really tell, but it did look like the baker, sort of, after I stared at him for a bit. He had the same short, stocky build that the baker had, but this man's face seemed longer. It looked like he had seen enough horrors in his lifetime to last forever. The baker I had known, though I only had met him twice, was a polite man who was always cheerful. I thought it because he ate a lot of sweets he baked. Still, this man and the baker had two different faces.

"This man, Amulum Pan, has been sentence to death by hanging!" commanded the main Peacekeeper. "By orders of the Capitol for attempting to break the laws set in place!"

The noose was slipped over Amulum's neck. He had been gagged, though he seemed to be trying to shout through the gag. After the noose followed a sack put over his entire head. When someone is hanged, the body because almost unable to be seen. One time they didn't cover the head and had placed the noose on improperly. This was several years ago, though I remember it. The woman had been hung and began to flail around. So much pressure was put on to her head that her eyes started to pop out and blood poured down her face from the sockets. It was a terrifying turn of events. While that case is rare, even if done properly, a hanging is unbearable to watch.

Within seconds, the man's body was dropped over the pedestal and began to jump about like a fish on the end of a line. After a good half-a-minute, he was lifeless. I held on to Peony's hand as she turned away. She was never good at watching this thing. She may be strong when it comes to certain things, but witnessing death was never one of them. I think watching the pain of someone dying made her remember her parents.

With the hanging finished, people were allowed to leave. The rest of my mates had rushed away from the scene. They liked watching these about as much as Peony and I did. We all had issues with the idea of dying. It came with the territory of being abandoned and placed in a community home. We are always underfed and pushed around, so we come pretty close to death every day. While the district itself has a hard time living, I still think us orphans have it worse.

"Come on, we can go," I said, tugging on Peony's hand.

She was crying, staring at the man's hanging body. The man will stay there for a couple of hours, before he starts to truly rot, as a reminder that that could be us next. I didn't find it appropriate, but who was I to question the Capitol.

"Alright," Peony muttered.

Everyone was going back to their own lives. All the stores were filled with people, some of which were probably just trying to get away from the image of the hanging. All the stores were lit up with candles and people, all but the bakery. Apparently Peony called it right, it was the baker, because now the store was dark and locked up; empty of all life. A few loafs were placed in the window and if you looked in, you probably could see the shelves stocked, but no one would be in there to greet you.

_I wonder what is going to happen to all that food_, I thought.

They will probably throw it away, which is a waste in my opinion. All the kids at the community home would love to have that food, but they will never see it. I hung my head as I thought this. Peony paid me no attention, instead looked around at all the colourful stalls as we walked down the street. In front of the stores were even more stalls that sold even more items. The town center was always a lively place because of this. It is strange how it can turn from dark and bleak before the hanging back to lively and cheerful, as cheerful as District 12 can be, afterwards. I guess people are just trying to forget about anything they just saw. I cannot blame them, as I was trying to do the same thing.

"We should probably get back," I said.

Peony nodded. The community home enforced a strict curfew, especially today. It wasn't because of the hanging, but because the following day was special. The following day was the reaping.

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**There is the first chapter. I will be taking the POV of District 12's Myrtle for this story. I was about to do District 8 again, like I did with**_** Overture of a Massacre**_**, but thought against it. I don't want to keep doing the same thing.**

**As you can see Myrtle tries to be a good kid in the eyes of the Capitol. She tries to not question their rules, but finds it confusing at times.**

**Anyone know why Fanfiction was down for so long? I got up and went to check my account and was giving the "503" error. I know everyone had this, but it is still annoying. I thought they were doing another purge like they did years ago, but found a lot of smut was still around when we finally were allowed back on. It is annoying, yes, not to be allowed on. But what was really annoying was we weren't told what was going on and still afterwards we receive no word what was going on. Not even an apology.**

**I'm going to go back to playing my game (Princess Maker) for now. I'll try to update before the week ends.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Make sure to review, even if your character hasn't shown up yet. I LOVE reading, and really getting, reviews. Also, thank-you to Vhagor for submitting.**

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_Chapter 02_  
_'Reaper'_

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Someone real important once said, "An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind". I don't know who said that, but a lot of the adults in my district say that, especially the few elderly. It seems to be an inspirational quote, though it really doesn't apply to our world, much to the disappointment of the adults who say it. The Games were made with the idea of "an eye for an eye" in mind; it was punishment for our ancestors. I wish we could live by the quote, but we cannot.

Today was the most dreaded day of the year; the reaping. Every year on this day two children from each district would be taken as tributes into the year's Hunger Games… I really hate that word, tribute. It sounds depressing in contrast to describing the event as a game. It sounds like they are describing each child reaped as a tax or fee to be paid, their lives commission for their district to continue on.

The reaping is one of the few days I am truly depressed. No matter how hard I try or how much Peony tried, I couldn't get over the shakiness and fear I got every year on this day. Peony never really understood this type of dread, as she herself was too young to be reaped at ten. The only people who could understand me would be the other children in the running for being tribute, the twelve to eighteen year olds. I was fifteen, so I was smack dab in the middle. Still four more years before I wouldn't have to feel the pressure, but those years seemed to drag on in the district.

"Myrtle?"

The tiny voice to my side called out my name. Peony was walking beside me as we head to the square. It was required that everyone attended the reaping, unless they were on their death beds. With the sheer number of the district, only the children were able to fit into the square. All the adults were forced to overflow into the side streets and watch the reaping from the giant monitors all around that were filled with images from the cameras filming the entire event. Peony would be in the sidelines in the square with the rest of the kids from our community house. I however would be lined up with the rest of the fifteen year olds, hoping our name doesn't get called.

There is a thing in Panem called tesserae. Every year a child's name is put into the lottery for the reaping, no exceptions. So when your twelve, your name is in it once. By eighteen, your name is in there seven times. But with tesserae, there is a chance your name will be in there more than that if you wish. In exchange for putting their name in the lottery more, they receive a year's worth of oil and grain. They are giving a chance to take out tesserae once for each family member a year, all being cumulative. For people like me, an orphan, we really are supposed to need tesserae. We are the burden of the district; they are supposed to take care of us, not us taking care of ourselves. Still there are a few of us that have taking out tesserae. I have taken it out twice; both times were mainly for the oil for our lamps. With those two tesserae, by age fifteen I have my name in the lottery six times. Now I admit it isn't as bad as some kids that are in my district. The kids in the Seam, the truly poor part of an already poor district, have their names in the lottery anywhere from twenty to fifty times, depending on the size of their family.

"Are you nervous?" asked Peony.

Her grip on my hand increased. She was definitely concerned about me and I couldn't really blame her. I probably had a strange, anxiety-filled expression plastered on my already pale face. I was dead afraid and I showed it well.

"You'll be fine," she added.

She was probably right. I had only six slips with my name on them compared to the twenty plus names of many of the other kids. Still, that was six slips too many in my opinion. I really disliked the reaping. Even so, I tried to clear my face to the best of my ability of any distress I may be feeling and looked down at Peony.

"I know," I said. "Tonight, I think we should break out that jam we have been hiding and have some nice celebratory toast."

Peony smiled at this suggestion. She has a nice smile, it helps ease me in times like this.

We finally made it to the center after what felt like a hundred mile walk, what was really like a mile-and-a-half, and found the crowd already starting to gather. This is where I had to split with Peony. My other mates took her hand and took her to the sidelines. She managed to find a space up front to watch, standing close beside a few of the richer mothers with their youngsters. Usually those mothers would scold someone like Peony for being close to them, but today was a special day. They were too concerned with the fate of their own kid to deal with or even notice Peony.

I took my place in line, signing in. They had to make sure I was present, even though Peacekeepers already are patrolling to make sure everyone is out of their houses and present at the center. A single drop of blood was pricked from my right index finger on to a slide and placed in a small, handheld machine. It quickly confirmed my identity and checked me off the list.

"Continue," said the man who drew my blood.

I did as told and filed over to the large group of kids, taking my spot beside my classmates. All of them were stressing as much as I was. I knew a few of them were from the Seam and had taken out a lot of tesserae already at the age of fifteen. Their parents were probably as scared as they were, just like the mothers beside Peony. I didn't have any parents to worry about me, only Peony and a few of my mates from the community house. People would probably let out sigh a breath of relief if my name was drawn. That would mean a kid with no real connection to the district, no parents or siblings to leave behind, would go instead a kid with everything to lose, a family and a real life. I don't like to think like this, but every reaping it crosses my mind on how the district would react.

The crowd had been murmuring ever so slightly but quickly died down at the strike of noon on the loud clock tower located in the south part of the square. Everyone turned towards the stage set up in front of the Justice Building located on the north side, like we do every year. Sitting there, ready for what was about to happen, was the mayor and our district's escort. I never remember the mayor's name. IT wasn't because I hated him, actually I found him pleasant to be around. He is one of the few people who are polite to us orphans, treating us like the actual humans we are. His name is just so confusing, I can never remember it. Peony calls him Mayor Gum, though I am not quite sure that is it. Our escort however had a memorable name; it was Valentina. She, unlike our mayor, was a horrible person. She acted snobby, to quote Peony, and like she had something wedged up her butt, to quote one of my male classmates. I personally didn't like her, but I only had to see her once a year during the reaping.

Valentina had walked up to the solo microphone on the stage while I was thinking about everything. She looked like a ripe strawberry. Her hair was a deep shade of green, pulled up high and tight, while her clothing was a strange, angular, upside-down triangular dress with broad shoulders. Her face was stretched back like it was being sucked back by an invisible portal located on the back of her head, though was probably due to alterations, which were all too common in the Capitol. She looked so fake compared to the entire district surrounding her. Here in District 12, we pride ourselves on our natural appearance. Body hair was common, make-up unheard of, and wrinkles sought after. With body hair we remained warm. Make-up was an expensive pleasure that no one really could afford, even the "wealthy" of the district. And wrinkles meant age, which meant you were able to survive the pains the district brought. You were wise with knowledge and thus placed up high. But not in the Capitol. Wrinkles are diminished completely. Body hair ripped from your skin. Make-up is a must. And if you want to stand out even more there are many more alterations you can do; gain cat whiskers, dye your skin, tattoo your face, replace your teeth with diamonds. I know I shouldn't judge, but it is a weird thing to imagine, replacing your teeth with diamonds. But I heard one of the kids in my class saying how they heard the Capitol does that, with so much more.

"Welcome to the 295th annual Hunger Games," Valentina announced in her high-pitch Capitol accent. "And may the odds be ever in your favour."

Apparently an escort a long time ago said that, "may the odds be ever in your favour". She supposedly coined the term when she started as an escort here in District 12. It had quickly caught on in the Capitol, becoming almost a tagline for the Games. Again, we aren't told about this in school, but by the few elderly in the district. I don't know how true this is, but I cannot help but feel kind of proud it started in District 12. Seems kind of sad at the same time, but I will take whatever pride I can get.

"Now for my favourite part," she began.

By her "favourite part", she meant the video. The had been showing this video since the end of the Dark Days and beginning of the Hunger Games almost three-hundred years ago. If it had been any other day, the video wouldn't faze me. I mean, it was a little preachy. Not everyone is perfect, not even the Capitol, but I still believed the Capitol couldn't be that bad. But because it was the reaping, it took all of my energy not to start screaming at the video. I hated listening to it today. Instead I managed to tune out the entirety of the audio. I looked towards the screen, so I wouldn't get into trouble for not paying attention if caught. But really I was spacing out, looking at the buildings behind the screen. I could see a cat on a window sill, playing with a little strawberry plant on the sill with it. I finally came too when the window ended and Valentina came back on the mic. Only really because the cat heard Valentina's high pitched cry and ran back inside the open window, probably to hide underneath a bed away from the monster that was our escort.

"Now for Mayor Montgomery-" That's it! Mongomery! Mayor Gum sort of makes sense now. "To read the Treaty of Treason."

What a beautiful name, right? Treaty of Treason. It was through this treaty that the Dark Days ended and the Hunger Games began. Again, if it were any other day, I wouldn't be as fazed by the treaty. But it wasn't and I had to deal with it now that the cat was gone. Thankfully the mayor is a quick reader and got done with the treaty in perfect time this year. I don't think he liked reading it either. With him done however brought back Valentina.

"Thank-you for that wonderful read," said Valentina. Her tone screamed sarcastic, though with a touch of forced flattery. "Now for the drawing of the lottery for this year's tributes from District 12. Ladies first!"

With her saying that, a large glass orb was brought out on a cart. Inside you could see all the papers with the names of female children in the district.

_To think that some of those names are twelve year olds…_ I thought.

I never like to think about how young some tributes are. Also that in two years Peony, who was the closest thing I had to family, would be forced to have her name in it.

Valentina had the cart brought to her left and lifted a little hatch on the top of the orb. Every year is the same orb, but every year I never expect the hatch. I guess I forget just to allow myself the surprise. Valentina reached her hand, red talons and all, inside and rummaged through the papers. Not really rummaged, but more like tossed around; like how you gently toss a salad. She did this until her hand finally stopped, as if finding the piece of paper that felt perfectly between her fingers. She pulled the small folded paper out and cautiously opened it with her finger nails. It looked like she might rip it in half with those knifed fingers of hers. She finally managed it open and began to read the name.

"Myrtle-"

She read my name. I blanked out with my surname, which I never used anyway. I had been called. Out of the hundreds and hundreds of slips in the orb, one of my six had been called. I don't know how it was possible, but it happened. I didn't even realize my feet were already moving towards the stages. I didn't even realize it until I was already up there, having been escorted to the stage itself by a few Peacekeepers. Valentina had clasp her claw on my shoulder as a I stood were the orb that held my name once did. Everything was blank for me, a white-noised blank. I didn't understand what was happening, so I did my best to drown it out. Drown out the words. Drown out the actions. Drown out the emotions.

"Morpheus Hilt!"

I heard the name of the male tribute. I managed that. Morpheus… I didn't like him either. He was the son of a few miners from the Seam, but acted like he was the mayor's son. He had the archetypical black hair and olive skin with slate grey eyes that were common in the Seam. But unlike a lot of the skinny, shorter fellows you find in the district, he was tall and strong. He helped with a lot of the house work at his home, from what I hear. He would carry loads of coal and anything else his family might have to the market to sell, in the end carrying heavy bags of food and resources back to his home. He was an intimidating opponent, which I definitely did not need right now.

"Now shake hands," Valentina instructed.

I did as I was told too and shook Morpheus' overly large hand. When you get closer to him, he gets even bigger. I was lucky to be five foot four, which is average for a female in the district, but he had to be well-above the average in general, standing at least six foot three, maybe four. I did not need him. I would gladly take any other boy from the Seam, even a few of the merchant boys, but not him.

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**Second chapter! We introduced the District 12 tributes for these Games. What do you think so far? I know it is too soon for you to be cheering Team Myrtle or Team Morpheus (or any other team), but what is your opinion so far? Next will be the good-byes, which will be short due to Myrtle being an orphan, and the train ride. After that the chariots, which will introduce a few more characters, and then training.**

**The quote at the beginning was said by Gandhi.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Before I continue, I would like to promote LittleBitNerdy's story **_100 Years of Hunger Games - The Fourth Quarter Quell_**. She would like a few more people to submit, is in desperate need of them. If you wouldn't mind headed over there and at least looking at her story. I found it a nice District 1-themed read so far. It is also longer than a lot of fics I have read in the category, which is nice as well.**

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_Chapter 03_  
_'Bye Bye Blackbird'_

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The next two hours seemed to drag on after that. Once the reaping was finished, ending with the anthem, I was ushered into the Justice Building, taken up in a rusty ole' elevator, and pushed into a plush room. I never had thought a room like this one even existed, especially in District 12. All the furniture was lined in velvet and the rugs were so soft, my feet sunk in. I was tempted a couple of times to take of my shoes and spread my toes amongst the carpet, but I feel like that might have pushed it. Instead I took my seat on the floor, placing my hands on the carpet and leaning my head onto the couch. It wasn't long before the door opened. I was about to jump up, thinking I might embarrass myself in front of someone important if I remained in my position, but decided against it when the people walked in. It was Peony and two of my mates, Kathleen and Luca. I didn't know either Kathleen or Luca very well, but they were my age and stayed at the same community home, so I hung around them to make me feel a little more comfortable. Peony ran over to me on the floor and fell beside me. She clung to my torso, not wanting to let go. And it wasn't like I was about to let her either, as I too hugged her with all my strength.

"I don't want you to go," she muttered through the tears that drenched my reaping dress.

It wasn't like I wanted to go either. I was terrified of the Games, like everyone else. But no one volunteered… No one volunteers as tribute in District 12. No one volunteers in the lower district period. It would be suicide, especially when the Career Districts are around. The Career Districts are those strong districts; 1, 2, and 4. They volunteer for the Games after training all of their lives to compete. They volunteer, not us. If I had been born in one of the upper districts, things would have gone differently. I probably wouldn't be as scared as I am now. I probably would be stronger and well-prepared, and even if I wasn't, someone probably would have volunteered. Not to save me the agonizing death in the arena, but to take the glory of winning the competition.

Still, I couldn't say any of that to Peony. I would just worry her. She was the only family I had. I couldn't crush her with my worries. Instead I shook my head softly, shaking away any tears that might fall and hugged Peony even harder and closer.

"Me too, but it is what it is," I said.

I looked up at Kathleen and Luca and gave them a hard glare. That was all I needed to do to get my message across. They nodded in understanding. They were going to have to take care of Peony until I got back, if I got back.

_No,_ _don't think like that_, I thought.

The time didn't last long for their visit sadly because soon a Peacekeeper was pulling Peony off of me. She screamed a little bit, but after Kathleen and Luca took her hands, she just left. I stayed on the floor, not wanting to move. I was still numbed by the previous event that if I were to stand, I feel like I would just collapse again onto the floor. I was surprised that I actually managed to stand during the entire reaping itself.

No one else came to see me.

Afterwards I was taken from the plush room, down the same elevator, out the same door, and into a luxurious car. I had never been in a car before. It was an experience that I probably never be able to have again either. I wasn't alone. With me was Valentina and Morpheus. Both made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't like it. We finally arrived at District 12's only train station to board the tribute train. The train was a lot like the room from before, lush. I feel kind of repetitive describing each thing I see as lush or plush or fancy or such, but for me anything above soot-covered items and horribly made bread is an extravagance. I was kind of glad to learn that the train had two rooms separate for the tributes, along with one for the escort and a few for the mentors. So that meant Valentina got a room while the rest remained empty. District 12 hadn't had a mentor for the Games since Haymitch Abernathy committed suicide. He gave up on life after he got tired watching each one of his pupils kept dying in the Games.

I went to my designated room to get away from Morpheus and Valentina. Morpheus hadn't said anything to me recently, at least not since the reaping. He had said enough to me at school for me to hold a long lasting animosity towards him. Valentina has only said the cliche sentences I only imagine every escort says. "I am so glad you're here." "You'll be so excited when you see the Capitol." And other crap to make us feel the closest thing to eagerness. I really hate her.

My room was comfortable, and even though we would be on the train for little less than a day, I quickly decided a nice, long nap was called for. And just as I was about to strip off my dress, someone knocked at my door. Hoping it wasn't _that_ woman, I slowly opened the sliding door. Only two people could be bothering me and if it wasn't her, it had to be him.

"Morpheus Hilt," I muttered under my breath.

He just stood there, towering over me, smirking all the while glaring down. His silver eyes never faltered, unlike mine. I quickly looked away. He was already intimidating me and we hadn't even gotten to training.

"Look, I'm not here to talk shit about you," he said. "And I am not here to make some stupid, prissy alliance."

I looked back at him, confused. I didn't expect an alliance either, but I definitely expected some shit flinging.

"Then what?" I asked.

"I'm just telling you now that you are going to be in for a rude awakening when we get to the Capitol and it isn't like your imagination makes it out to be. It isn't some fairytale kingdom," he explained. "I've heard the stories and I know you have."

I let out a slight scoff. I didn't mean too. It was quite rude, though I really don't care about my manners around someone like Morpheus.

"You're telling me not to act all dazzled? The boy who acts so wealthy but is really from the Seam?" I asked.

It was Morpheus' turn to scoff. He didn't hold back at all either. Screw manners! This was a conversation between two people who would much rather have nothing to do with each other.

"I try to be nice and warn you and I get this in return," he says. "Just don't embarrass me with all your gapping."

With that he left. I closed the door behind him. What a jerk! I know the Capitol isn't a "fairytale kingdom". But from all the pictures I have seen of it, it is quite beautiful. I should be at least allowed to be amazed by it before I die in a blood bath.

* * *

**Ending of chapter 3. For all those who care, I was listening to three songs when writing this…**

1.) **Bye Bye Blackbird** Originally done by Gene Austin (1926), but also done by Nina Simone, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Joe Crocker, and many more. This chapter was named after this song.

2.) **Hanging Tree** Done by James Newton Howard and Jennifer Lawrence. A popular song now and, even though in my personal opinion Jennifer mumbles more than sings, I love it.

3.) **Horn of Plenty** Panem's national anthem. I listened to it when writing the reaping as well.


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter 04_  
_'13 Horses'_

* * *

The Capitol wasn't at all like I expected. The pictures I had seen didn't portray the truth of the Capitol. Those bright and cheerful buildings were there like in the pictures. The people who had lined up to see us were just as tacky as pictured as well. But what the pictures didn't show us was the film that seemed to cover the Capitol like a heavy blanket. There was something about the place that just didn't feel right.

"We're here!" cheered Valentina.

After Morpheus had come to talk to me, I hadn't managed to get a wink of sleep. I was too nervous thinking of the Capitol. And upon seeing it now, I was kind of upset that Morpheus had been right. I stole a quick glance at him as Valentina lined us up. He was sneering towards the door, probably at the multitude of Capitol citizens that were mobbing outside. We couldn't see them yet, nor them us, but Morpheus looked like he had already sensed them and already detested them.

"Smiles!" shouted Valentina.

I managed as half smirk; the best I could do with all the pressure and no sleep. Morpheus refused to change his scowl. No matter how loudly Valentina shouted, she wasn't going to get him to crack a smile, not even some half-hearted extremely fake one. Even I could see that. The doors opened and we were both bombarded with lurid flashes of lights and shrills of people in the hordes. I could handle it. I don't know why. I wasn't used to this much attention. Heck, I wasn't used to any attention being an orphan. The only attention I ever received were judgmental gazes from those who believed themselves to be higher than people like me. I guess this was no different. These people were just judging me, just with a more "chirpy" attitude. The only difference was these people were truly above me, not just in their minds, but in actual life.

I was starting to get used to being ushered. After a few candid photos from the crowd, Valentina pushed us into another car. This one just as nice as the last, maybe even more so. We were offered little drinks from inside a mini fridge against one of the short walls of the elongated car. Morpheus refused to drink it, though took it. He just let it grow warm in his hands. I however drank it. It was a sweet, overly sweet, carbonated drink. Valentina swore it wasn't alcohol, but it made me feel nauseous all the same. I couldn't drink the entire thing, but I tried to at least drink half. Valentina was watching me the whole time with a smile on her face. Not some vengeful smile that would make me question her; no she instead wore one of pure interest. She looked like she really wanted me to like it. I didn't like her, but without any mentors, she was the only person I would have in the Games.

We finally arrived at a small building. The training center is a really tall, extravagant building that I had seen from all the Hunger Games I had watched from previous years. This however was not it.

_This must be where the chariot rides are prepared_, I thought to myself.

The chariot rides take place every year before the training sessions for the tributes. It signifies the beginning of the Hunger Games. I may hate the Games, but I always found the chariot rides interesting. It must be all the colours. Every district is represented in the chariot ride, or "tribute parade", each wearing a distinct costume to characterize their district. Every year so far, District 12's has been lack luster when it comes to everything, including colour. Usually we are either in a coal miner's outfit or. if we have a "special stylist", completely naked expect for some coal dust to cover our more private areas. The phrase, "saving the best for last", do not apply here. Never does for District 12.

My stylist's named Freed. Talk about a silly name. The people of the Capitol have such strange names. I know Myrtle may not sound as attractive as Valentina or Freed, but it at least is simple enough and basic enough to sound like a real name. When I first heard Freed's name, I didn't even know if they were male or female. Turns out they were both… Maybe. At first glance I thought Freed was just a woman with a masculine face, but upon closer realization I discovered he was surely a he, just dressed in feminine clothing. Talk about a character. His personality is about as outrageous as his exaggerated appearance.

I couldn't even meet Freed until his assistants ripped out all my body hair and sharpened my eyebrows. They went on to wash every part of me while I laid on some table, completely in the nude. I didn't particularly like this, but with the knowledge that Morpheus was going through the same pain as me, I dealt with it.

Freed was a small framed man standing about my height. That helped me feel a little more comfortable standing naked in front of him. At least he wasn't looming down over me like someone Morpheus' height. That and Freed looked like a female, an ugly female, but a female none the less. I didn't feel like I was being stared at by a guy, but by another female. Just as creepy when you say it aloud, but when just thinking about it, it was a bit more comforting.

"So Elfa, your partner's stylist, and I have decided on something darker to represent your district's profession," said Freed.

_It's going to be coal dust again,_ I dreaded.

Freed didn't talk much about what I was going to be wearing. Instead he, or she… I don't know what Freed's preference; never thought to ask. They instead went on about how beautiful so-and-so's make-up is and "Did you see what such-and-such was wearing?" Gosh! Running on fumes, it took all of my concentration not to ask them, as politely as possible (which at this point was not much), to please just shut up. By the end of a long half hour, I had what felt like layers of make-up caked onto my face. I wasn't allowed to look until I got my outfit on. Freed didn't want to ruin the surprise. When they had down my hair, I felt like it was being ripped out with the rest of my body hair. My dark hair, which usually hung in my face down, had no strands to be found floating around. It was weird.

I was then instructed to put on a black, long-sleeved leotard with thigh high flat black boots. Around my waist hung a loose tool belt. I was given a short hooded capelet that was a dingy brown. From underneath the hood and head lantern I was finally allowed to look in the mirror and I discovered just how weird I looked. I didn't look like myself to begin with after having everything from me stripped clean, but now I looked even less like me. Make-up was caked onto my face to rid myself of flaws. My eyes had so much shadow around them; it actually looked like my eyes were sunken in. It actually looked like I had coal around my eyes. At least I can say it made my eyes pop? No? I looked terrible. I probably would have been better off with the coal dust.

I stifle a sigh and walk out of the small changing room behind Freed. Down a hallway and through another door, we are soon inside a much larger, open room filled with many other people and most importantly, twelve chariots. Each chariot is drawn by four horses. The horses' coats seem to match the district the chariot is supposed to be from. Perlino for District 1. Palomino for District 2. District 3 having dapple grey horses. Each horse group is unique to each chariot. Sadly, like every year, District 12 is stuck with simple black horses. That may seem cool, but when you dress so insipidly you don't want to blend into your horses. Freed says the horses' pattern is called "Black Chestnut", though it looks simply black to me. I guess I just don't have the Capitol's eyes, which would explain also my lack of enthusiasm for my outfit.

But when Morpheus finally arrived, it didn't feel all that bad. His outfit was similar to mine; a black leotard, though with baggy black pants over it. Ever seen a guy you hate in a leotard? It is hilarious! He wore the same belt, head lantern, and caplet. At least he wasn't wearing thigh high boots, but instead chunky, black work boots. He had similar make-up to mine, making him look darker than he actually was.

"You look ridiculous," he whispered to me.

"Have you looked in the mirror?" I asked.

He just sneered at me. I held back laughter. Why? The other tributes were there. I didn't want to attract attention just yet. I didn't know who would be my allies and which of the rest would be my mortal enemies. Really, in the end though, they are all my enemies. But I was only afraid of a certain few.

The Careers were near the front of the line of chariots near their horses. District 1 looked beautiful in their outfits. I don't know how their stylists did it, but somehow they found sheer feathers. White, translucent feathers made up the girl's dress, which traveled down to the floor. The only part of her dress that was actual fabric was the chest area of the empire style dress. The fabric was almost sheer also. The only stopping from her entire self being shown was a set of lacy white lingerie. The boy was dressed in a pure white suit with the translucent feathers making up his jacket. It looked delightful. He wasn't trying to be sexy like the girl. He was too youthful looking to do so anyway.

The District 2's were dressed in matching black jumpsuits that had long sleeves. Over it was place silver armor over their arms, chest, and legs. They looked ready to fight, though that was mainly because of their black visor-like helmets. District 4 stood beside them. They were dressed in the typical scantily-clad swimsuits customary for the fishing district.

I couldn't get a close look at any of the tributes from where I was standing, but I could tell I didn't really trust any of them. The District 1 male tribute didn't seem that bad. He was so short and scrawny, I probably could take him. I mean, he was even shorter than I was; which is something unexpected. I was normal for my district, but you would expect someone from the richest district to have more meat on their bones. He didn't look underfed, but he sure as hell didn't look as strong as the girl. The girl was definitely aiming on being sexy. It made me feel uncomfortable looking at her. She seemed to like having all the eyes drawn to her, which is probably not good. The fact she liked attention meant she would do just about anything to keep it.

The District 2 female was about as attractive as the District 1 girl. You could tell she got flirted with back home by all the boys. Whether she flirted back or not was still undetermined. She looked more like she would rip your skull out of your head if you ever tried to touch her, let alone flirt with her. The boy looked equally intimidating. He stood high above even his styling team, nearly reaching six feet. He wasn't the tallest boy here, but he was certainly up there. He held himself like he already knew he was going to win.

While District 1 and 2 were busy with each other and their stylists, District 4 was focusing on themselves. I have to say their chariot outfits weren't doing them any justice; not in a bad way. Their plain outfits seemed to contradict their striking features. I never had thought of a boy like this. He was so attractive. He had shaggy dark auburn hair that fell down loosely to his shoulders. It seemed to go well with his sun-kissed skin. He was surely good-looking and many of the other girl, tributes and non-tributes alike, seemed to be thinking the same thing. With his chest bare due to his outfit, we all seemed to be unable to look away. The girl wasn't that bad looking either. Her hair was a shade or two lighter than her district partner, though was still a pretty shade. It looked almost bronze. She was thin in her swimsuit outfit. I might have thought at first that she looked pretty weak with her build being so small, but really, after straining my eyes a bit, I could tell she had some upper body strength. Maybe it was from swimming in her district or perhaps it was from fishing, but she had some muscles there. They didn't take away from her beauty however.

Upon looking at these six tributes, I was starting to feel a little self-conscious about my appearance. I didn't look as good as them normally. I wasn't the attractive type of skinny; instead I leaned more towards sickly. I wasn't petite, as the people of the Capitol would say, but just short. I had no muscles or breasts or a bum. I was a flat, child-like, walking creature of skin and bones. And with the outfit I had on, I didn't really look much better. I just looked like a child trying to be sexy and it wasn't working.

"Time to get started," said Valentina.

Her voice knocked me back to my sense. I looked at her with a confused face. She pointed up to one of the many screens that lined the top of the walls of the room. The screens alternated at what they showed. A few showed a pair of men, obviously from the Capitol, with brightly coloured hair talking. I couldn't hear what they were saying due to the noise, but they seemed to be announcing the parade. On the other screens, like the one Valentina was pointing at, they showed a bright green-coloured numbers counting down. 40… 39… 38…

I was pushed onto the dusky-coloured chariot along with Morpheus. Neither of us was happy about how close of proximity we had to be of each other.

"Remember, don't embarrass me," he whispered to me.

"I can say the same thing," I whispered back. "Be sure not to fall off the chariot."

My added words made him scowl even harder. It was quite humorous. I managed to get a smug smirk, still a smile, out of it, though Morpheus remained slightly upset as the countdown reached zero. I could see the chariots in front of us slowly begin to move. I looked off to the side and saw the screens showing the chariots entering the parade. District 1 looked gorgeous in the lights. The crowd seemed to agree as they cheered and threw flowers down onto them. Showers of red, blue, and pink petals rained down on them. They even rained down on District 2, who soon followed them.

Soon enough it was our turn to come out from the tunnel and join the parade. We didn't receive any flowers, but we did get some claps. They seemed more obligatory than out of happiness to see us. They're still claps however and I managed a wave or two in response. Morpheus didn't wave, instead he kept looking forward. I don't know how he could act so stuck up and proud back home, a sense of self he didn't deserve to have, but turn into moody and quite in times like this. It would have made more sense for it to be flipped.

The parade ended as quickly as it began. The chariots lined up nicely, one beside the other, in front of the training center. We would be living in this building for the next few days before the Games began. It was like a prison for the tributes I heard. Even with that in mind, I felt happy looking at it. It was the nicest place I had ever seen and I would be living in it, even for a short time. It looked like it would be even nicer than the plush room back home.

Joining us in front of the training center, along with a crowd of people, was the president. His name was President Mistral Haze. He had become president not so long ago. I was alive when the previous president was still in power. President Tarn, the president before Haze, was the youngest president ever elected at the age of twenty-three. He apparently was one of the better presidents. People often compared his successor, President Haze, to him. Tarn was a compassionate person who kept the people of the districts close. He was relatable. President Haze however was a lot like Tarn's predecessor, President Moss. Both were harsh and undeterred. They expect respect from everyone. I try to do what I am told, but I have seen what happens when you don't; like the baker. One thing I can say, there are a lot more hangings and lashings with President Haze than there were with Tarn.

President Haze stood high above us on a large balcony. He had been elected at the age of fifty-two, making him the oldest to ever be elected. That was a couple years ago and now he was fifty-seven. His age didn't show though, probably due to the alteration oh so common here in the Capitol. His wrinkles were almost non-existent. I only could find a few at the corner of his eyes, and that was through the help of some high-definition television screens placed high above him. The rest of him was smooth, making him look younger. He didn't wear much make-up, like many other men I have been seeing. Instead, he wore some simple gold colours lining his smoky grey eyes. If I didn't already know he was born and raised in the Capitol, I would have thought him to be a District 12 resident. He had pitch black hair that was common in the Seam. His skin was paler, but his eyes and hair screamed 12.

"Welcome tributes of the 295th Hunger Games to the Capitol!" he greeted in a loud, booming voice. It commanded attention. "We, the people of Panem, salute your valor and oblation to Panem-" Simply a fancy way of saying courage and sacrifice. I had to ask my teacher one year what they meant by that. "We wish you a happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

With that, our chariots once again began to move, though more slowly this time, through a pair of opening gates below the balcony President Haze was on. We were officially inside the training center. It was the beginning of the end of our lives.

* * *

**What do you guys think so far? I am planning on a few things to happen, but I don't want to say anything yet. I already have the chapters mapped out a bit. I will get into training next. We will get to meet a few tributes next, though not all until the interviews. Mention who you want to see more of and who you don't like. Remember to REVIEW! :)**

**This chapter was named after the song "**_**13 Horses**_**" by Alexander Rybak. It is really sad, so be forewarned.**


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter 05_  
_'Training Center'_

* * *

As soon as we got into the building, our stylist greeted us once more. It wasn't like I hated Freed or even Elfa, but I didn't want to listen to them. Their voices were thick with Capitol accents, which only made me tired trying to break down what they were saying to understand them. I wasn't in the mood for it tonight. Maybe tomorrow, after actually sleeping. I wanted for them to finish whatever they were saying so I could just leave. It looked like Morpheus was thinking the same thing as he let out a long yawn.

I looked around the room at the other tributes as they chatted with each other and their entourage. The districts with actual victors to help mentors were definitely lucky. They had the advantage of getting help from someone who had survived the Games. District 12 hadn't had that benefit for a long time. And it wasn't like my district was the only one. District 8, 9, and 11 didn't have any victors to claim either. District 8 tributes usually died quickly, a lot like the District 12 tributes, while the District 9 and 11 tributes usually look like they are going to make it, but never do. Careers usually are the winners, no surprise.

I was really staring at District 4. The boy had already retreated to bed it seemed, but the girl was still there. She was a bit closer now, so I could actually see her better now. She looked pretty weak closer up surprisingly. What I had thought was muscles on her arms, actually looked now to be just a joke of the shadows. She stood well above me, but seemed smaller than me all the same. I was also close enough to hear bits of her conversation with her very masculine stylist, who looked like a giant by the way.

"Faye, tomorrow you need to be… Don't over… Remember that," he said to her.

My hearing faded in and out of the conversation, even with how hard I was straining. I did manage to catch her name. Faye. After hearing her name I remember seeing her on the recaps of the reaping I watched on the train before. She had been reaped and no one had volunteered. It was strange for a career district such as four to not have any volunteers, but none came forward this year. Either no one trained hard enough to volunteer, which seemed unlikely. Or no one volunteered for her, because they didn't like her, which seemed more likely. Her worried face, biting of the lower lip, as she stood up on stage made her seem completely helpless, like a wounded animal.

I continued to look around and rattle my brain for what little information I had on the tributes I found. I only knew what I saw from the reaping, though that was more than nothing. I could at least judge them a bit from their reactions to the reaping.

My eyes fell upon District 1. The girl, whose name I just couldn't remember to save my life, stood there, huffing. She was too far away to hear, but she appeared to be complaining about something. With a small yawn escaping her mouth, I could tell it had to do with sleep. The boy however, kept his back straight and his mouth shut. It looked like he was desperately trying not to speak, for what reason I don't know. I remember his name being Zero something. He had been reaped at the young age of twelve. It wasn't a nice thought, having a twelve year old in the Games. But it was even stranger to have a twelve year old from a district with so many volunteers. It seems that the volunteers weren't out this year. I remember from the recaps that his parents were screaming and crying as his name was called out. He seemed to be shaken up too, but not as much as you would think someone his age should be. He seemed oddly ready, so to say.

As I stared in their direction, the boy moved and caught my eyes. It was only for a second that we looked at each other, but he seemed to have noticed I was staring. He smirked and went back on listening to his group.

_What was that about?_ I wondered.

Freed and Elfa finally finished talking, much to Morpheus and my gratitude. We were then escorted into a glass elevator by Valentina. A few other people shared the elevator with us; the District 3 tributes. Both were short in stature, the boy a little taller than me and the girl around my height. They were also about as thin and brittle as me. It was a common idea in District 12 that a few of the other districts would be as weak as we were. Districts like 3, 5, 6, and 8 were imagined to be like us because of their exports. We were never really taught about other districts in school, so we had to imagine them. Right now, the tributes from District 3 were starting to push my stereotype of the entire district.

They got off at the third floor. Each district had a floor reserved especially for them, their team, mentors, and escort. Their floor's number matched their district, making floor 12, the penthouse, reserved for District 12. When we finally arrived, I got to see how gorgeous it truly was. It was awe-inspiring and all I could do was marvel in it. It was large and much more luxurious than the plush room. The furniture was modern. The television set was one of the newer, flatter screen systems. The two back walls of just the living room was made entirely of windows that went up at least nine feet high. I could only imagine what the rooms looked like.

_Thinking of that_…

Freed and Elfa, who stood behind Morpheus and me, went to talk about what outfit we would wear tomorrow during training. Valentina went to talk over them about our schedule. I however was so tired, I just ignored them and dragged myself to my room. I couldn't even take in any of the beauty of my room, instead plopping down face first onto my foam-like bed. I sunk into the bed and managed to get the covers over me. I ended up falling asleep in my clothing and make-up from the parade.

* * *

The next day I am awoken by Valentina announcing it was time to prepare for training. I woke up groggy, but still more rested than I was the other day. It was early in the morning, so I easily blamed that for my sluggishness. I rolled out of my warm bed. Normally, my bare feet would hit the cold wooden floors of the community home back in District 12 in the morning. Not this time. Instead my feet were still covered by the socks from yesterday. They hit extra cushion when they hit the fluffy red carpet of my room. It was a weird sensation at first, but I quickly grew used to it. It seemed nice and almost like I was being pampered.

I got myself to my attached bathroom and found the shower. I never had ever used a shower before in my life. Having a shower was a very rare luxury in District 12, where warm water was almost non-existent. It would be kind of pointless to have one if it only squirted out low-pressurized cold water. No, I was more used to cold baths. The community home never heated up the water for you. You had to do it yourself, but that was a lot of work. It was only worth it during those bitter cold winter days that sitting in ice water would just kill you. I pressed a bunch of buttons as I stripped in the shower. Water came on a pulsated all over my body, rotating between scolding and luke warm water. My skin felt almost numb underneath the quickly changing temperatures of the water. Shampoo and soup also came at me, coating my body in a sweet, kind of over-bearing scent of lavender. I ended up scrapping it off of my skin with what little of nails I was left with after the prep-team had gotten ahold of me. My shower did end with me being clean and more awake, so I'll mark it as a win.

On my bed was placed a brown and black work-out outfit I had only seen in worn-out magazines in my district. No one would spend money on a work-out outfit in my district, not even the wealthy. The outfit was nice and loose, allowing my body to move easier. It wasn't that warm though, but I could only assume that I wouldn't want some warm when sweating. I got dressed in it and joined the rest in the dining room for breakfast. Only Morpheus and Valentina were there. I was glad Freed and Elfa weren't there, as I don't know if I could handle their excitement so early in the morning.

"Look who's finally awake," said Valentina.

I was pulling my hair back in a ponytail when I sat down. If I was going to go to the training center, I wouldn't want my hair in my face. Morpheus seemed okay with his bits of hair in his face. He was wearing an outfit similar to mine, but instead his was a navy blue and silver. Mine looked dirty compared to his, but I guess it didn't really matter.

"Hurry up and eat," she instructed. "You took so long. We are off to the center soon."

I received a plate full of biscuits and gravy. It was a common dish back home, but our gravy was more watery and the biscuits harder. These were so savoury and filling. I wish I could have these every morning.

Once finished, we walked back to the elevator and traveled to the basement level. Along the way, we were joined by District 5 and their escort. I had seen their escort, Truffle, on television. She seemed easier to deal with than Valentina, but then again, District 12 always got the worst. But who would want to deal with coal miners?

What I found strange about District 5 was that they seemed to be both female tributes. The first had chopped auburn hair that framed her long face. She looked quite feminine, even more so, which made me slightly jealous. The other girl I had thought the boy at first, but upon a closer look, she was a girl as well. Her face screamed the strong fem-fatale type. Her hair was shorter, almost boy-ish. She was short however, my height, and weighed no more than 100-pounds soaking wet. Her body gave her away as a female.

They stood in front of us and I didn't have anywhere else to look, so I ended up staring at the back of their heads. Morpheus apparently caught me staring, as he elbowed me in my ribs. I went to complain, but he shot me a look. I guess, from his eyes, that if I was caught, it would embarrass him too. I just bit my lip and looked out the glass walls of the elevator. I didn't like being so high up, but it was better than facing Morpheus' wrath.

We finally made it to the basement level and the District 5 tributes left first. They were busy talking with their escort when we left. Valentina placed each of her hands on our shoulders, staring at Morpheus and me in the eyes in turn.

"Behave and try to get to as many stations as possible," she said. She looked at Morpheus. "You can probably do some weapons, but try not to go where everyone else is."

She then looked at me. "You should avoid the weapons. You don't look like you can even hold a sword. It would be pointless to waste your time on something you'll just end up failing at anyway."

I guess this was Valentina's way of preparing us. I don't know why she felt the need to do this. I was getting mixed emotions about her. I hated her for telling me something I already knew, but I was thankful that she actual thought to try to help us. I nodded in response, as did Morpheus, and she let go of a large smile.

"Good," she said, releasing us. "Now go!"

She hurried us through a pair of large sliding doors. On the other side was…

* * *

**So there is that chapter. I thought I would tell about everything leading up to the training center. Yeah, the title was slightly misleading. I will get back to District 5's tributes soon. I will also explain the presidents better later, when the storyline calls for it.  
**

**Edit: I messed up with the names because of flipping through the forms so quickly. At first I wrote Astra for District 4, but instead it should have been Faye.**

**So here are some stats I decided to go through. There are 11 brunettes, 3 blondes, 2 gingers, and 8 black-haired tributes. Brown hair (any shade) leads the pack with 45.8% of tributes having it. Black hair comes in second with 33% percent, blonde at 12.5%, and ginger at 8.3%. There are 9 brown-eyed, 3 silver-eyed, 6 blue-eyed, 3 green-eyed, 1 hazel-eyed, 1 black-eyed, and 1 violet-eyed. Brown, again, leads the pack with 37.5% having brown eyes. Blue eyes are in second place with 25%. Followed by silver and green eyes tying for third with 12.5%. Hazel, black, and violet come in at last place, all having 4.1%.**


	7. Chapter 6

**I cannot believe I messed up last chapter. For those that haven't read the revised version, I messed up majorly. It should have been Faye not Astra. I flipped through forms on my profile and switched the names. I apologize to We're All Okay (submitter of Astra), Imagination Heaven (submitter of Faye), and the readers.**

**Also, be sure to check out AspiringWriterGirl's SYOT. I submitted a character and am hoping the story succeeds.**

* * *

_Chapter 06_  
_'Stations'_

* * *

We ended up walking into a large room filled with an obstacle course and stations upon stations of weapons and other necessities for survival. Morpheus didn't seem fazed, but I just stopped where I stopped and took the entirety of the scene all in. It was magnificent. I had never thought training would be so large. I was sort of nervous they would just throw us in.

"I suggest you hurry up."

The two girls from District 5 had finished their discussion with their escort and had walked up behind me. I hadn't noticed at first, but I was right in the middle of the entrance. The shorter girl had huffed at me, but the taller one had been polite and was the one who talked. She seemed a whole lot nicer than the former.

And when I thought about it, I didn't remember seeing her reaped. I had dazed out during the recap of District 5's reaping, but I clearly remember a girl and a boy. I don't know where this taller girl came from, but here she was.

I smiled in return to the smile she gave me, though something felt off. I walked over to the rest of the group and the Head Trainer. The Head Trainer was a very muscular and lofty man named Ralph. What a strange name, Ralph; especially for someone like him. I thought someone from the Capitol would have more of an elite name, more than Ralph.

Ralph explained to us the stations. The gauntlet, the big obstacle course, was mandatory, meaning all the tributes were required to do it at least once. You could do it more than once, but no one seemed to like that plan. The rest of the stations were optional, though Ralph suggested us to check out the survival skills, like the edible bug station or knot-tying station. Apparently a high percentage of us would end up dying due to the environment or dehydration or just lack of survival skills, so it would be smart to check out those stations. The Careers seemed to be already ignoring his words, focusing their views on the weapons racks scattered across the room. I had already planned to stay away from the weapons areas, like Valentina had said. I couldn't hold a sword or a bow or an axe, so it would be pointless to train in those. And I had a feeling the knife station would be overrun with Careers too; I didn't want to be at the same station as them. Maybe being around one would be fine, but a group of them intimidated me.

Ralph let us go. We had time before we were required to do the gauntlet, so we could check out some of the stations. This was time for me to get some of the necessary skills I needed to survive. I already knew a few knots from home. We were taught in school. I also knew something about edible plants thanks to the Hob, the black market. There were a lot of plants sold there, which I learned a few of them by names that could be eaten or used for medication.

I ended up going to the snare-setting station. I thought it best to learn a skill I could use to get food in the arena. I wasn't going to be able to use a lot of weapons, so this was the next best thing. Each station had a trainer assigned to it to help us out. The trainer at the snare-setting station was a young man named Briar. Compared to Ralph, Briar was nothing. It seemed kind of fit thought that he was working with snares. He was good at too. He was a great teacher and taught me a lot about small snare-setting that would catch smaller animals. I wasn't the best at the bigger ones that could get a human, but at least I knew that was possible.

_I wonder how many tributes are going to try to set those up_, I thought.

I stayed at the station for little over an hour. I learned all I could from Briar. He was very patient in trying to teach me. A few other tributes came over when I was there, but grew bored very quickly. Briar shrugged off the people who didn't want to learn and tried to help the people who did.

After the snare-setting station, I found the knives were empty. All the Careers had grouped up around the swords, cheering each other on as they practiced against some of the trainers. Now was my time to try to get some weapons in. I walked over there just as another tribute did as well. It was the tall girl from District 5.

"Excuse me," she said as she stepped up first.

I let her go first. I would rather watch her do it first, so I knew what was expected. I also wouldn't feel the pressure of someone constantly watching me. And just as I was thinking that, another person joined me in line. It was the guy from District 3. I don't remember his name; the boy wasn't very talkative from what I gathered in the recap. I remembered seeing him after the parade. He looked pretty much the same up close as he did far away. Short, weak, and almost unhealthy. I knew he was a bit taller than me, but up close, I could tell not by much. His black hair was incredibly greasy; I don't know from what, exercise or just if it was regularly like that. Either way, he definitely wasn't a threat.

I went back to watching the District 5 girl go about the knives. She was throwing them at the targets as they slowly moved. She was pretty good.

"He's pretty good," said the District 3 behind me.

"He?" I asked under my breath.

"Are you kidding me?" said the boy. "I mean, he looks a bit different than he did during the reaping, but he is definitely the male tribute."

I never thought such a pretty girl could be male.

"But I did hear he calls himself female," the boy added.

I never heard of someone of one gender considering them self as the opposite gender. That way of thinking wasn't really approved of in our society. Cross-dressing wasn't even smiled upon, but it was dealt with. Cross-dressers at least didn't change their gender, only through clothing. The Capitol often frowned on that sort of mindset. I think they called them transgender. They never really explained it further than it was wrong. But this girl, or male, I'm not entirely sure what to call them… Either they seemed so nice. They smiled at everyone and were always using manners. Maybe there are exceptions to every rule; the Capitol had to know that, right?

They finished up and walked up to the District 3 boy and me.

"I'm a girl by the way," they said.

She had heard us. It was embarrassing. The District 3 didn't seem to be fazed, but I couldn't help but blush.

"My name is Whitney," she added before leaving.

I at least knew her name now.

I walked up to the station and was taught how to hold a knife. They were different than I expected. I thought you need to grip them hard, but apparently when throwing them, it was all about the rotation of the wrist and the flick of the fingers. If you gripped them hard, you wouldn't throw them properly. Also, if you threw them properly, you wouldn't have to put so much pressure and take up so much energy into hitting your target. After the trainer taught me how to properly hold it and throw it, I was allowed to try to hit some targets. I missed a few of the moving ones, but found that I wasn't as bad as I thought I was going to be. With a little bit more practice, I would be fine. I decided to leave the station for a little bit though, because there were more people starting to come. I didn't want to attract some attention.

As I was leaving the station, the District 3 gave me a slight nod. There were people behind him, so he couldn't really talk, but I understood the nod enough for him not to need to say a word. He was saying "good job" without speaking a word. I gave him a nod back and continued on my way.

_I think I received enough attention for today_, I thought as I headed to a station that hadn't been touched.

The tree-climbing station. Surprisingly, no one had even visited the station. People had been visiting the rope course beside it and the weight-lifting station on the other side of it, but left the artificial trees untouched. They normally had trees in the arenas, whether it be a tropical or mountainous or even desert theme. If not trees, there is usually something to climb. I guess the rope course could help, but there isn't always handles available when climbing, like there is in a rope course. I ended up staying at this station until lunch time. After lunch would be the gauntlet, something I didn't look forward to.

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**As you can see, I'm not particularly confident in writing the training center, but I tried. I hope this lives up to your expectations, even just a little bit. I did introduce Whitney and the District 3 boy, who will have his name said soon enough. Both will be major characters in the story; so there is a spoiler for you. The Careers get focused on next chapter, along with the gauntlet.  
**


	8. Chapter 7

**So I haven't updated recently because I am dealing with a few things for this story. Nothing ******ü**ber special, but I need to get it done. Well, now that it is almost done, I can work on this chapter.**

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_Chapter 07_  
_'The Careers'_

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After lunch, it was time for the gauntlet. I would surely attract attention on this no matter what I did because everyone was there. If I did well, I would be marked as a threat. I would be denoted as a risk to have around, especially by the Careers. Now I didn't think I would do well. So far, I was only good at climbing trees, moderate at throwing knives, and decent at snares. With an obstacle course you needed more than just those skills. Climbing might have come in handy, but with this course, it seemed like the requirement for upper body strength was higher than it was with the trees. If I did horribly, which let's face it, I probably would do horribly, I would be viewed as easy-picking. I know a few tributes go for that as their strategy. Be viewed as weak, but come out of left field and show their hidden strengths at the end to win. Only a few tributes actually won with this strategy because they actually had strength. I wasn't going to be able to however, but despite having enough strength to climb and throw knives, I was physically weak.

I was near the middle of the line, so I was lucky not to have everybody forced to watch me. Still, that fact didn't comfort me. During lunch I had noticed small black semi-spheres around the training center; on walls and the ceiling. I didn't know what they were at first, but managed to overhear the conversation between a few of the smarter tributes. Apparently they were cameras set up so the Gamemakers could watch us during training. Originally they sat in the same room as us to enjoy watching the show of us training. After Katniss had shot that arrow, they continued to sit in on the training, but behind the safety of a force field. Still, tributes made spectacles of themselves and threatened the Gamemakers' safety. So the cameras were set in place so they could continue to watch and be safe. So even if there wouldn't be many tributes watching me, the Gamemakers' eyes would still be. I felt completely uncomfortable.

"Don't worry. You'll do fine," said Whitney.

She had passed me as I stood in line. She was heading to the back of the line when she passed me and managed to pat me on the shoulder.

_She is really nice_, I thought.

Whitney reminded me a lot of myself in some ways. She seemed to have confidence in the nation, like myself, and backed the Capitol's decision. She seemed not to want to think horribly of them, which I could relate in. We spoke during lunch for a little bit and from what I gathered, she wanted to have hope in everything that was going on. Thing was, she seemed even more optimistic than myself. She didn't seem to dislike anyone with a passion, like the dislike between Morpheus and me or Valentina and me. She seemed to have a bit of hope for everything and everyone, which made me like her even more.

With everyone lined up, it was time for Ralph to explain the gauntlet to us. It was set up like any obstacle course, but this one seemed a bit more dangerous than the others. The first obstacle involved thick beams set up in lines with spaces in-between. The point was to jump from one beam to the next. It looked easy at first, but I knew never to underestimate something. I learned that from my district. If you underestimated something in 12, it usually cost you your life. So despite it looking easy, it probably wasn't. Following that was a rope swing across a pool of water. The point was not to fall into the water. Once on the other side, you had to shimmy up the rope and get to the platform raised a good 3 yards. From the platform, you swung from a pair of monkey bars to the finish. Now falling from one of those bars was equivalent jumping out a second story window. Even though there were pads around the course to break falls, it still looked like it would hurt.

Up first were the Careers, who had rushed to get to the front of the line. I was surprised to see that Faye not with their group. District 4 is a Career district, so I could only assume that she would be with her district partner, who was with the rest of the Careers.

_I guess even some Careers dislike the Careers_, I thought.

Every year I would watch the Games with Peony and my other mates at the home and every year I would like the Careers less and less. I found them traitorous and annoying. I didn't know why the Capitol liked them so much. If it was their children in the Games with us, I could only assume the Capitol wouldn't much like the Careers then; murdering and betraying their children. I guess the Careers put on a great show.

The first one in line was District 2's male. I hadn't heard his name, so I don't know what to call him. The others cheering him on were just chanting. Either way, he seemed to be doing well. He easily made it passed the thick beams. Then again, if he didn't and was from District 2, that would be pretty pathetic for him. He had obviously been trained. He even got passed that rope swing. But when he was to climb up the rope, he seemed to be having difficulty. He couldn't seem to get a good grip with his feet. He kept sliding down. He had been doing well on time, but now the seconds were ticking away. Before any one of us knew it, he made a splash into the pool behind him from falling off the rope.

The Careers chuckled at him, but the rest of us knew better. "Friends", or a better term being allies, could chuckle about this sort of thing, but strangers and enemies were not allowed to even make a noise during times like this. It would be dangerous and just make you even more of a target. I didn't want to have a target on my back because of a chuckle.

Up next was the District 1 girl. I didn't expect her to get very far. She may have some muscles, but they weren't able to be seen all that well. She looked a bit stronger than me, but I couldn't imagine her being all too stronger than me.

She managed to get pretty far; climbing a bit higher than the District 2 male. But her hands weren't used to the harshness of the rope. There seemed to be some calluses on her fingers, probably from training, but none on her palms. The rope just tore through her soft palm skin, causing her to fall back in pain. I let out a small smile, but quickly hid it behind my hands so no one could see. I looked more surprised than happy about her fall. When she got out of the pool, I saw bright red liquid pouring out of her hands due to the wounds inflicted by the rope. A few of the other tributes saw this and seemed hesitant to do the course now. I had calluses on my palms from working around the home and from practicing at school for my future career in the mines. Even Morpheus had some calluses on his hands, but many of the other tributes didn't. A few did, but many didn't.

Following District 1 girl was the District 2 girl and District 1 boy. The girl actually got passed the rope and on to the monkey bars. Her hands ended up slipping near the beginning however, because she put so much energy into climbing the rope, she ran out during the monkey bars. The boy didn't even make it passed the rope swing, slipping during mid-swing. He did make a big splash at least. So far from what I seen I learned I shouldn't put too much energy into one stage. If I do, I fail. But the question was, do I want to succeed?

A few other tributes went up. The District 4 boy, who seemed to go into the water on purpose. He chuckled at himself and joined the other Careers. Then the District 3 tributes, both of them, the District 5 girl, and the District 7 girl. No one seemed to finish the course, but that didn't deter Morpheus who was up next. His arrogance was starting to show.

"I got this," he muttered as he stepped up.

There was only one person between us, so I could hear him. I was actually slightly concerned others could hear him too. It would put way too many eyes on him if they did, which wouldn't be safe. He started when Ralph said go. He was going fast; too fast in my opinion. Still, he flew through the first stages. When he got to climbing the rope, he did struggle a little bit with it at first. His quickness with the first stages helped make up for that though. He did get the hang of it and made it to the platform. The monkey bars were all that was left. He did seem to being doing well until it was time to let go. At first it looked like a simple drop, but really you had to swing to get to the landing. I hadn't even noticed that at first and neither did Morpheus. He started to swing and let go. His toes touched the landing, but heels did not. That in its-self caused him to stumble backwards and fall onto the padding beneath the monkey bars. I didn't know if that counted on finishing or not, but it didn't matter. He was the first one to get that far. It was enough to get attention from the Careers. They didn't seem happy.

_Maybe I should just purposely fail_, I thought looking at the glares people were sending the proud Morpheus.

Morpheus walked passed me and smirked. He seemed confident in finishing and the smirk he gave me as he passed was a silent challenge; saying, "Try to beat that". Any other time I would accept his challenge, I mean come on, he was like a rival, but now wasn't the time to focus on a petty rivalry. My life was on the line during the Games and I would definitely die if I had too many people focusing on getting me.

Between Morpheus and me was Faye. She seemed focused. I don't know what her motivation was, but it was surely driving her through the course. She wasn't as fast Morpheus, but her focus was spot on and allowed her to breeze through the obstacles. She even made it to the end of the monkey bars. And with a simple swing of her body, she landed at the finish. She did even better than Morpheus. The Careers congratulated her and patted her on the back. On the surface she took the congrats with a smile, but something beneath her blue eyes made her seem like she wasn't at all happy about being around them. That was just my observation, but I still think it was there. The Careers were so focused on her that they seemed to forget Morpheus. They went back to their preferred stations, meaning weapons, now that all of them were done with the course.

I was up next and I didn't like it. I was so nervous that my hands were starting to clam up. Ralph readied me to go. I managed to get my hands dry enough by wiping them off on my pant legs. I went when Ralph called out "Go!" and jumped on to the first beam. It wasn't as hard as I originally thought, but still it was better to be safe than sorry; even if it meant to overestimate something. I finished the beams pretty easily and went to the rope swing. The calluses on my hands allowed me to grip the tough rope without much pain. A lot of the calluses on my hands had been rubbed off by my stylist team, which made no sense to me, but not all of it was gone. I swung across the pool with ease. At the other side I took a quick glance at my hands to estimate my status. My palms were a bit red, but no bleeding like District 1 girl. I rubbed my palms on my pants legs again for safe measure and began to climb the rope. Climbing trees at that station helped me with this a bit more. I would have probably done better going to the ropes course to deal with this obstacle, but how many ropes will really be around during the Games. Normally not that much, but then again, with my luck probably a whole lot more than I suspect.

I got to the top of the rope and wiped my hands again to get rid of any sweat that accumulated during the climb. I was starting to stress out now. Really, I wanted to finish this to the best of my ability, which could mean getting to the finish. I hadn't expected it, but this course was right up there for us outer districts. But if I finished it, that could mean I would be targeted. Not much time had passed since I started this. I wasn't as fast as Faye or Morpheus, but I was doing well. So much so, I had time to glance towards the Careers. They weren't paying attention to the gauntlet at this time, meaning they probably wouldn't realize if I finished or not, nor would they really care. The other tributes watching would know, but they weren't as scary as those Careers. I took a big sigh and went for it.

One hand in front of the other, that is what I repeated to myself in my head as I swung across the monkey bars. District 11 probably would be good at this, but after I finished, I wasn't planning on sticking around to watch them. I would be better off running away and hiding at one of the unpopular stations. I came to the end of the monkey bars and it was time to swing. I didn't have enough strength to get a good swing going like Faye did, but I swung enough to propel myself forward. I managed to balance on my toes on the finish.

_I made it_, I thought.

I was proud of myself, but soon that pride disappeared as I noticed the Careers looking towards the clapping of the other tributes. They realized I finished too. Both District 12 tributes finished something only one of them could. That wasn't right and they knew it. I quickly ducked my head and headed in the opposite direction of them. That meant towards the edible bug station. It wasn't something I really wanted to do, but I wanted to be as far away from them as possible. Even if it meant dealing with the disgusting, squirming nature of the multi-legged creepy crawlies. And as I walked up to the station, I noticed Morpheus out of the corner of my eye. He was smirking, but not at me, at the Careers. I could tell what he was saying. "We, the weakest district in all of Panem, bested you at your own game."

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**End of this chapter. What do you think? What do you want to happen next? Drop a review and let me know. Hopefully this long chapter will make up for the short chapter coming up next.**

**On another note, I finally watched Catching Fire. I have read all the books multiple times and loved them. When I watched the first movie, I disliked all the inaccuracies. My mom, who hadn't read the books and thus didn't know anything about the world of Panem, didn't know what was happening in the movie. When Catching Fire came out, I was afraid it was going to be as bad as the first movie and so I avoided it like the plague. I finally watched it almost two years after it was released. I have to admit, it wasn't that bad. Obviously they cannot include everything from the book, which is sad but that is how it goes. There were some inaccuracies, but not nearly as bad as the first movie. I enjoyed this one a lot better and it made me happy to see a few of my favourite, and even my most hated, characters come to life. I loved Mags and was sad to see her go. I never particularly liked Johanna, but I did like her portrayal. So there is my little thing on the second movie. When Mockingjay comes out on to DVD, I will surely get it. Sadly I do not have enough money to pre-order it and get the free clutch bag that comes with the pre-order at Hastings.**


	9. Chapter 8

**I got bored and decided to do a picture for this story. It is done through DreamSelf, the TinierMe dream avatar maker. It isn't the best due to lack of selections when it comes to skin colour. I tried my best; no olive skin tone even though a lot of tributes have it. Check it out by clicking the DeviantART link on my profile.**

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_Chapter 08_  
_'Final Session'_

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After the gauntlet, I was left alone at the edible bug station. I was too afraid to go to any other station that day and ended up finishing the day with adept knowledge on bugs. I guess it could help with survival. It could have been worse; I could have been stuck at the slingshot station or weight-lifting station. The following two days didn't have anything overly exciting. When we had gotten back to our floor, Morpheus was very proud of himself, and even me, for finishing the gauntlet. I was afraid he wasn't going to let it go the next few days and make us targets even more than we already were. Thankfully he seemed to drop the topic come next day, allowing me to skim past any watching eyes. I am sure the Gamemakers remembered, but it didn't seem like any tributes did. I spent the days working with knives, learning how to make shelters and fires, and rope climbing. I tried not to show any talent in any one group, less someone was watching me and making mental notes.

During the specified lunch time, I mostly sat by myself. Whitney joined me once and I swear the District 3 boy and girl kept near, but other than that, I didn't make any alliances like a few others did. Morpheus seemed already to have an alliance forming between the District 6 tributes. Another alliance formed, obviously, was that of the Careers, who always sat together during lunch. They made it quite clear they were together. Faye seemed not to like them at first, especially during the gauntlet, but now she seemed to blend perfectly in with them. No one else formed any "friendships", if you can call them that. I did feel close to Whitney, but we only seemed to be on simple speaking terms. When it came to fighting together, I don't think that would ever happen. Besides she seemed friendly to everyone and I don't know how I could trust someone like that. It seems like hidden motives to me, though I don't want to think that.

The fourth day at the training center finally arrived. The entire day was designated for our private sessions with the Gamemakers. It was to show them what we truly learned. We are allotted so much time to impress them and show them what we truly got. The only people there are you and the Gamemakers, no other tributes, which is perfectly fine with me. That meant I wouldn't need to hide myself anymore. The problem was that we would be scored and those scores announced to the nation. Many people used the scores to determine the chances of winning. People also use this for betting or deciding whether or not a tribute is worth sponsoring.

Valentina told both Morpheus and me that we should aim to get an average score as to blend in. A lower score, a one to three, would make us either look weak or that we were planning something; most likely the latter due to our performances on the gauntlet. A higher score, seven to nine, would just give the Careers and other tributes even more of a reason to hate us. There was no chance we were going to get those impossibly high scores, ten to twelve, which was pretty much off-limits to everyone but the impressively skilled. So far only five people in history have ever gotten an eleven or twelve. Either way, it was smarter to go for the average scores that most tributes from the non-Career districts get; four to six. I had issues deciding on what I wanted to do, though Morpheus probably wasn't as troubled. I could only imagine he was ignoring everything Valentina was saying and focusing on how he was going to impress the Gamemakers. He was hard-headed when it came to being humble. I wouldn't be so concerned if it was only his butt on the line, but we were from the same district. I didn't want people to lump me together with him just for that fact.

We were allowed to sleep in a bit later, which was nice due to getting up at dawn the previous days. The sessions started at around 11 am, so we were there a little bit early. We were escorted to a simple sitting room filled with benches and chairs. I found a chair by itself in a corner. I was able to sit and watch the other tributes with the safe fact no one could sit beside me. While Morpheus was obviously confident, along with most of the Careers, a lot of people were panicking. It wasn't like they were making it obvious, well not most of them. But I had nothing better to do while waiting than to stare at them and make out their habits due to their stress. The District 3 girl bit the inside of her lower lip as she thought, while the District 7 boy excessively tapped his index finger against his knee while waiting. Even Faye and her district partner, who both should have been confident, were showing bits of nervousness. I did all I could not to join in the anxious attitude as I watched the scene.

The sessions go in order of district with the guy going first. So as per the cycle, the District 1 boy went first. Now each private session is given a maximum fifteen minutes for the tributes to showcase their talent. The Gamemakers will usually dismiss them earlier than the given fifteen, aside from the higher districts, so not everyone is given the same time frame. The District 1 boy however was given his full fifteen minutes. I didn't know what he did, but he must have impressed the Gamemakers to have them allow him the full time.

People continued. District 1 girl, District 2 boy, District 2 girl… So on and so forth until a little less than two hours had passed. The sessions were getting shorter, but still it felt like it was taking forever to get to me. Whitney had already gone and it was time for Crystal; Whitney had told me her name. Whitney had been given around seven minutes, which was a little under half the time allotted. I guess that was average for a lot of the weaker districts, because Crystal also got that amount of time.

Time continued on and on and on. I swear I had fallen asleep at some point because at first there was eleven people before me and next thing I knew there was only four. Apparently almost an hour had passed since Crystal had gone. It was time for the District 10 girl to go, which made me only realize I need to get my plan together.

Once I got in there I would be given access to all the stations from training. I could do anything to show-off any talents I might have acquired over the previous three days; so that included snares, rope climbing, knowledge on edible bugs, knife throwing, climbing trees, fire making, and shelter making. Only a few of those would be interesting to watch, because I highly doubt even I would want to see someone pick out and eat bugs. Gross. So I left myself with knife throwing, climbing anything, and fire making. I was proficient with knifes, but so was probably the Careers. I could only imagine how boring it would look for someone from my district to throw knifes. I would look like I was trying to copy one of the Careers, and would probably do a poor job of it. Climbing could be interesting, especially with the job I did on the gauntlet. Obviously the Gamemakers had watched me, meaning they knew I could do it, but if I did something more interesting with climbing, something more reckless, I could easily impress them. And fire is always a go to choice for entertainment. Make a big enough fire and throw in some chemicals I learned during training and I could make a very pretty, and colourful, light show. But the real question I had to ask myself was what type of scoring I wanted to get.

Morpheus' turn came and went. He was only in there for eight minutes and it was obvious he was not all too happy about that. I guess he thought he would be given the same amount of time as the Careers. HE came out with a huff and passed me.

"Don't do weapons," he muttered to me.

I didn't know what he meant by that, but I wasn't given a chance to ask. He was just as quickly escorted out of the room by Peacekeepers. I was pushed through a couple of doors into a long, stretched out hallway. I walked with trepidation down the shadowy corridor. Through another pair of doors, I found myself in a completely new room. I was almost as large as the training room, but the floor was cleared. The Gamemakers were sitting over the floor in a balcony. They wore Capitol couture in flamboyant colours and intricate, and slightly ugly, hairdos. Food surrounded them, which they seemed too focused on to show any concern that I was there.

No one said anything as I stood there for a minute before I realized they weren't going to tell me to start. I huffed and began without being told too. It wasn't like I was ever going to be told to. I was given access to anything I needed; I just had to say something. I ended up asking for a bunch of wood, kindling, copper chloride, and flint. For the next three minutes I placed the wood so it touched the others edges, but in a fancy outline. I sprinkled the chemical over the wood, making sure no one spot was too concentrated in the material. I could tell a few of the Gamemakers had taken interest in what I was doing, but they would quickly turn away when they realized I hadn't done really anything quite yet.

I finally stepped back and took in my design. If I did this right, it will be beautiful. If I did this wrong, well, we'll have a colourful bonfire in the center of the training center. I don't know the punishment for burning part of the Capitol, but I could only assume it wasn't good. Holding make my shakiness, I grabbed the flint and walked to the corner of my design. I did what I was told by the trainer at the fire station and took my flint. Sparks began to fly ever so slightly as I struck the flint. Before I knew it, a flame appeared and began to spread across the wooden design.

By this point, many of the Gamemakers were watching as blue flames rose up. The design had been the symbol for District 12, which of course was mining. I had made it so when the flame went up the symbol could still be seen. It actually looked really cool, giving the symbol a blue haze due to the flames.

"You may leave now, Miss-" one of the said.

I didn't know whether they liked it or not, because all I saw was gaping mouths. They didn't have to say my surname however. I hate it.

I bowed in response and left through the same doors I came in from, leaving the fire to burn out. My entire training session lasted a total of six minutes.

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**Don't you hate it when you are trying to find the perfect word and cannot think of it?**

**I thought this chapter was going to be a bit shorter, but it turned out not to be. No promises for the next chapter, which will just pretty much be the training scores.**


	10. Chapter 9

_Chapter 09_  
_'Tallies'_

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I ended up sitting between Morpheus and Valentina on the long, crescent-shaped couch in the living room. It was the night after the private sessions and the scores were to be broadcasted across the nation. I was nervous, hugging a pillow to my chest as I watched random Capitol propaganda on the television. The scores weren't on yet, but they were coming. Morpheus looked a bit worried too, despite his earlier confidence. I can only assume he did something involving weapons, which was why he said what he did to me. He had refused to speak of his session, even though Valentina asked. Even I found the bravery to ask him, in a small voice but still a voice, but he knocked both of us away. He wasn't having it. Valentina, however, looked excited.

"And now for what we have all been waiting for… Elijah Duval!" the empty voice of an announcer proclaimed.

Within seconds the eye-blisteringly bright image of Mister Elijah Duval appeared on the screen. I think this is a common thing for announcers in the Capitol, to dress in a single neon colour. It makes them stand out amongst the pastel and primary colours. Elijah's go to colour was orange. Not the simple orange that waves good-night to you by a sunset. Nor a pastel orange that seemed to be loved in the Capitol because of its calming effect. No, Elijah's was bright and blinding. I didn't know how he could even look in the mirror in the morning, and I am sure he does because he looks way too styled to not. His hair was the blinding neon orange styled up in a curly short-do. His face had been altered so many times. I remember him one year when I was younger looking like he was around thirty years old. Now, due to so many lifting procedures I hear from my prep team, his face looks like a twenty-year old mixed with a pug. If the voice introducing him didn't say his name every year, I swear none of us outside the Capitol would recognize him. But that was what he was probably going for, so he seemed "unique". I found it weird, but I tried hard not to judge. Today he was wearing a matching suit that seemed to glitter.

"Welcome to the broadcast of the 295th annual Hunger Games' training scores," he said. "I am Elijah Duval and I will be guiding you through them."

He went on to explain the purpose of the training scores. Officially they are meant for sponsorship, but in the end, for the poorer districts that cannot afford gifts, they are simply meant for betting whatever money or food or whatever other supplies they have left.

"We shall start with District One," said Elijah, interrupting my thoughts of the gamblers back in Twelve.

The picture of the small boy from One popped up to the right of Elijah. He was the boy I had locked eyes with after the parade. In the picture he seemed even smaller on the large screen. His face trying to be flat, but having a bit of a frown to it. He looked innocent, but there was nothing innocent about Careers. I had seen them every year on the television, watching them during the reruns. I had to remember those were the types of people I would be playing with. No one is innocent once they step foot in the arena, not even this small boy.

"Aren Zero from District One," calls Elijah.

Zero… A fitting name for someone so small. I thought I hated my surname.

"Received an eight," he continued. "Turquoise Augustus from District One received a seven."

The small guy received an eight, which really surprised. I am pretty sure he wouldn't do weapons during his session, so I have to continue to wonder what he did to impress the Gamemakers so much. The girl's score didn't really surprise me however. A seven seemed average for someone of her status. The boy from District Two, Onyx, got a nine and so did the girl, Astra. They were someone I needed to worry about.

"Rotary Bliod from District Three," says Elijah.

The boy from District Three appears beside him, framed. He was one of the few other tributes I felt slightly comfortable around. He didn't seem fake nor did he seem vindictive. He looked the same in the picture, quiet and calm. Apparently his name was Rotary.

"Received a six."

A six was average and the first average score. Surprise. I wasn't expecting him to get a score as good as the Careers, but for him to get a six is pretty good. He seemed smart, so he probably had a plan from the get go on how to deal with scores.

Time passed and soon we were getting close to our scores. The eleventh district tributes had received a six and a three. The boy had gotten the six, but the girl got one of the lowest scores of the day. Three was the lowest scores given so far, but three people had gotten a three as a score. Both of the tributes from Eight also got a three. Finally it was time for Morpheus' score.

"Morpheus Hilt from District Twelve," Elijah begins. "Received a seven."

A seven!? That was a high score for someone from District Twelve. Both Morpheus and Valentina knew this and were excited. I felt like this could only get worse, especially seeing how the other tributes were watching too. My turn.

"Myrtle…" My score… "Also received a seven."

Apparently my act had caused them to be impressed enough to give me a seven, which was a score I didn't want. I just had gotten too into it that I wasn't thinking. I wanted at most a six. Even though it was only one number off, a seven felt enemy territory. I received congratulations from Valentina, but it only went in one ear and out the other. For the rest of the night, I worried how I just screwed myself.

* * *

**Here is the full list of the score:**

***Aren Zero: 8**

***Turquoise Augustus: 7**

***Onyx Lee: 9**

***Astra Marshall: 9**

***Rotary Bliod: 6**

***Hub Bishop: 4**

***Drake Mares: 9**

***Faye Brieghton: 8**

***Whitney Halloran: 4**

***Crystal McGuff: 6**

***Styx Draco: 6**

***Acadia Ford: 4**

***Rowan Glover: 5**

***Harper West: 4**

***Aidan Wright:** **3**

***Lacey Stitch: 3**

***Meyer Wilch: 5**

***Hazel Summers: 5**

***Buck: 7**

***Barberry Devon: 4**

***Brendan Radbury: 6**

***Vintage Till: 3**

***Morpheus Hilt: 7**

***Myrtle: 7**


	11. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_  
_'Learning What You Need To Learn'_

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For the first time since the reaping, we were given a day off. Well, not really, but it was the closest thing we had to a day off. Today we were to go over etiquette for the interviews tomorrow. The interviews were yet another part of the process to introduce us to Panem and secure us sponsors. We hadn't had any really chance to show the "real" side of us to anyone. That is where the interviews came into. We got to answer questions and present ourselves to everyone. We didn't show our true nature really in the interviews, but how we wanted to be viewed and whatever personally would attract sponsors. This game was entirely revolving around them, the sponsors.

Today tributes would go over manners and other necessities to know during the interview with their escort. They would also go over their angle with their mentor. Valentina was more than happy to go over manners with us, but District Twelve didn't have any mentors. Unlike district like One or Two, we were stuck without the suggestions and tips that come with having a mentor. We were stuck trying to figure this stuff out on our own. Valentina would probably try to help if asked. She was nice and seemed to be growing on me slightly, though I still hate that almost trudging-like attitude she has at times. Still, she didn't understand angles. Her idea of an interview is to always be polite and lady-like, or gentlemanly in Morpheus' case. She didn't understand that not everyone can be like that now.

I started my day with a light breakfast, on Valentina's orders. I would have loved to stuff my face with the food. She started with me first, leaving Morpheus to think about his strategy for the interviews.

"Get dressed," she ordered upon entering my room.

I looked down at my outfit. I thought I was dressed. I was wearing a simple outfit, one of a few that Freed had laid aside for me. It was a basic white blouse with fitted brown pants and boots. I wouldn't ever normally wear this outfit back home, mostly because I wouldn't be able to afford it. But I thought it was appropriate to wear while in the Capitol. Sure it wasn't as colourful as the outfits I had seen, but it definitely looked expensive.

"Huh?" I asked.

She tossed a brightly coloured dress at me. I think she called the colour "peridot", but it looked green to me. The dress itself was a strapless, puffy dress that could have made me cringe. As I stared in horror at the dress, Valentina only grew more and more impatient.

"Well…" she said, bringing me back to reality.

"Why do I have to wear this?" I asked.

"Well, how are you going to practice wearing a dress and walking in it when you're wearing that?" she asked, gesturing to my clothing.

I huffed. There was no arguing I didn't know how to deal with these sorts of dresses and you cannot practice without one, but I was upset I had to practice in _this_ dress. It was rather ugly and when on me, it didn't look much better. When I finally came out from behind the room divider, which I dressed behind, Valentina handed me a pair of silver heels. I didn't speak, but my facial expression must have been asking her why I had to wear heels on top of wearing this horrible dress.

"Well, you cannot wear this dress without heels," she said as if the statement was obvious. "Besides, Freed did mention they planned to have you in heels and I don't think you know how to walk in them."

True, I didn't, but wearing heels never seemed important. They still don't seem important. I will be going to the arena in a couple of days and we won't be wearing heels there. Or so I hope. I'm starting to think the Capitol will do anything, even make us wear heels in the arena. Now thinking about it, I want to see Morpheus in heels.

The next two hours were spent with me trying desperately to walk in the heels, but failing miserably.

"Walk on your toes," commanded Valentina.

Easier said than done. I was used to walking on my heels. It made me feel stronger. But you cannot walk in such monstrosities as heels on your heels, despite the name. Go figure. Still, Valentina kept at me. I don't think I ever got the hang of heels, though I was able to slightly walk in them, though I looked like I was a new-born calf. I could tell Valentina was disappointed, but there was no helping it if I just couldn't do it. It wasn't like I wasn't trying. Along with the heels, I was taught how to sit properly and back manners when it came to answering questions. Like to always make sure the interviewer, in this case Elijah, is able to finish the question. At first I liked to jump the gun and answer before Valentina even got through the practice questions. She made sure to get that habit out of me. By the time Valentina and I were finished, I felt sore. Not only did my feet feel swollen, but I think my brain was throbbing with all the thinking I was doing.

"I'm going to go work with Morpheus now," said Valentina as she got up from her seat. "You should practice more for the interviews."

She didn't have to tell me to practice. As soon as she left my room, I got dressed back into my previous outfit, minus the boots. My feet were so sore, I thought it better to skip the shoes and give my feet some fresh air. I curled up on one of my nice, snug chairs. I had to think of the angle I was going to use. I remembered some girls go for flirty. Those girls tend to be the more well-fed districts, as they tend to be more attractive compared to the walking skeletons of those who starve like myself. Flirty wouldn't be out-of-the-question for me, but more of a last resort if I couldn't think of something. I also remembered some girls went for strong and determined. Thinking this, I felt a little depressed. I don't really see myself as either. If I was more like Peony maybe, but I don't think I could pull it off even if I tried to copy her. I could maybe aim for humble… Which seemed a little bit better. Compliment the Capitol and act like I didn't deserve to be in such a beautiful place. I wouldn't be lying if I said I felt out of place. I had seen a few tributes do this. The audience seemed to enjoy the humbleness of the tributes. Seeing humbleness is a wanted trait, it might be good to take that route.

I sighed. My head hurt even more thinking about my strategy. With Valentina's instructions and now this, I felt like my head was going to exploded with all the information crammed into my brain. I had to wonder how Morpheus was doing. If he was straining like I was. No, he probably had a strategy right away. He was a cock of the walk, so you know he would probably go for a showy attitude during his interview. Whether it was appropriate or not; he never seemed to care in the past, so why would he change now?

"Why?" I strained.

I hung my head and let out another long, drawn-out sigh. I felt kaput. Almost jumping from the chair, I lumbered over to my bed and plopped down. Valentina probably would snap at me for doing so, at this time, when I should be practicing, but I didn't care. I merely closed my eyes and let my brain drain of everything. I ended up falling into a deep slumber that last the entire afternoon only to be woken for dinner.

* * *

**So interviews come up next chapter. I will try to do what I did with Overture and try to explain all the tributes, which would make it a longer chapter. Be sure to review! :)**


	12. Chapter 11

**Why is no one updating any stories I am following?! If necessary I will beg, just please update.**

* * *

_Chapter 11_  
_'Say Hello to Panem'_

* * *

The next day finally came and it was time for the interviews. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it. I had put too much thought into what I was doing and now could barely stop myself from shaking. I had psyched myself out. Even as Freed dressed me up in my dress, I couldn't focus. Through the entire four hours it seemed to take for me to get ready, I couldn't focus. I finally came back to Earth only after Freed pushed me in front of a mirror and the sight of myself caught my attention. I was wearing a cream cupcake dress that ended just above my knees. The skirt was chiffon, whatever that is; Freed called it expensive fabric. The cream chiffon of the skirt was decorated in light pink gems scattered across it. I also wore a pair of heels, though these were a whole lot shorter than the ones Valentina made me wear. They were a matching faint pink with ribbons as straps that traveled up my legs. My hair was pulled up into a tight bun with a few strands coming down at the sides to frame my face. My hair was sprayed with something to make it sparkle and it seemed to match the sparkly eye shadow I wore. I surprised even myself by admitting I liked this outfit.

"It's so pretty," I said without thinking.

Freed looked proud in himself as he heard me say this.

"Well, I thought of how nice you are and your manners," he started explaining, emphasizing the way I conduct myself. "So I thought you deserved to have a bit of a girly outfit."

I _deserved_ it. That was a weird way of putting it. Still, I was too stressed out to complain. Actually him saying I deserved to have something nice put me at ease a bit. I didn't know why or if I even liked that it did, but it did. I just held back any of my initial grievances and just smiled. That smile alone seemed to make Freed so happy. He continued to go on about the dress, how to walk in it and sit. Valentina hadn't taught me to sit in a shorter dress, not mentioning it was different than the longer dress she had me practice with. Instead Freed taught me how to just slightly cross my legs and keep looking "lady-like" while doing so. I was thankful for him to be my stylist in times like this. He was so easy to deal with.

When I was finished, Freed guided me to the waiting area with the rest of the tributes. It was off to the side of the stage where the interviews would be going down. We were all gussied up, ready to be judged by the Capitol and the rest of Panem. My friends back in District Twelve were about to see me in a way no one has ever seen me before. I wasn't as confident as I should be. Would people like me or would I die in the arena the first day because I became so hated during these interviews. I wasn't entirely sure.

I ended up near the back of the area with Morpheus. His stylist probably had an easy time deciding for him to wear the shiny black suit he was dressed up in. He was naturally handsome, in his own way, so to put him in a basic outfit and let his appearance read has "natural" was the best way to go.

I couldn't read his expression as he stared towards the stage, but I had a feeling he was nervous too. He wouldn't tell me if he was or not, even if I were to ask. We weren't friends. We weren't even allies. Even I knew that once we got into the arena, he wouldn't care beheading me. I can even say, I wouldn't flinch killing him.

"You going to continue to stare at me in silence or are you going to say something?" he said, not even breaking his stare.

I got caught doing something I wouldn't ever want to be caught doing. Staring. I turned away, almost embarrassed he noticed. What happened next I was expecting even less than him noticing me looking. He laughed. Actually it was more of a chuckle, but it still came out of his mouth. I whipped my head back to see him now looking at me with an almost malicious expression spread out across his face.

"How pathetic," he muttered.

I was about to shout at him when he continued.

"If you get so worked up over something as miniscule as that, you will be dead within seconds of entering the arena," he said.

With that, he walked away towards his real allies, the tributes of District Six, leaving me stunned.

_Was that advice he just gave me? _I wondered.

"One minute!"

The shout came from one of the hands backstage, giving us all warning we were about to air. We were to prepare ourselves for the coming broadcast, which would start in the next sixty seconds. I, along with the rest of the tributes, including Careers, readied ourselves for the next seventy-two minutes that were promising to be extra stressful.

The lights soon dimmed in the waiting area and the lights on the stage brightened. The stage was set up outside. The areas around the stage, where we and the stage hands all were, were blocked out by curtains so we could walk around without being seen. The crowds viewing the interviews live were all lined around the stage. I managed to get a peek outside the curtains before the start of the interviews and gasped at the sheer size of the crowd. There were even more people than I expected. It was really no surprise due to the popularity of the Games in the Capitol, but I still couldn't help but be impressed by the numbers. I had to wonder if watching the Games was required by the Capitol here as it was in the rest of the districts.

"Welcome!" exclaimed Elijah as he entered the lights on stage.

The crowd cheered upon seeing him. I watched as he took it all in. Humble was no word to describe the man as he seemed to absorb all the cheers and cries of complaints aimed at him during the entrance.

"I am Elijah Duval and I am here to help host the event you are all waiting for," he started. "The interviews of the tributes for the 295th Hunger Games!"

The crowd was going wild. If we acted that way in the districts, the Peacekeepers would be called to contain us, yet here it seemed to be alright. It was strange all the double-standards I was seeing upon arriving here. And I wasn't entirely sure I was fine with it.

"Before the start of the Games, every year we sit down with the year's tributes so you can get to know the real them better," explained Elijah.

_And by the real them, you mean the real them they allow you to see_, I thought.

No tribute shows their true personality during these things. No one expects them to. It is an uncomfortable situation and would only become more uncomfortable when trying to show the true side of yourself. If anything, people lie during this. They try to show a good side of them, whether it be sexy or strong or independent, it is only one part of them, a desired quality for the Game. It is a lie they put forth to make the people, the Sponsors, like them better. I couldn't judge however, as that was what I was about to do.

"Like every year, we start with the first of the districts and go down until we reached all twelve," Elijah said. "Ladies first, as manners apply. Without further ado, the District One female, Miss Turquoise Augustus."

The blonde girl from District One walked from the waiting area onto the stage. Her outfit was gorgeous. A tight, long dress that hugged her body and elongated her stature. Her stylist was smart at knowing how to make her even more attractive. When I look back at my outfit, sure its pretty, but it doesn't entirely compliment me like hers did. It was a sapphire blue dress with white and silver crystals decorating the empire-style bust. Her flaxen hair was down in loose waves, falling to her bare shoulders. I normally get jealous of clothing back home that is warm during the winter. I had never been jealous of the light-weight shimmery clothing, until now.

I half-heartedly listened to her interview. I didn't really have the energy to listen to her, as I didn't really mind her as a threat. She seemed the average Career and probably wouldn't get very far, especially with the District Two tributes this year. And then there was her district partner, the small boy Aren, who had gotten a eight even despite his small frame. He may not be a physical threat, but his score made me concerned about him.

After Turquoises interview, it was Aren's turn. His outfit was a golden tuxedo lined in black with a black dress shirt underneath. He looked spiffy, to steal Freed's word. His long brown hair seemed to defy him being from District One, where the common hair colour was Turquoise's gold. His appearance was full of contradictions. His skin was a pale, almost ghostly tone, which contrasted the fake tan all too common in the richer districts. He also had strangely coloured eye, which were almost a faint violet. I hadn't seen anyone with such colour eyes, but I guess even District One has money to have weird appearances like the Capitol.

"Aren Zero. What an unlucky name to have during something that requires you to be number one," comment Elijah.

I could only imagine that Aren got made fun of his name a lot back home. It was an unfortunate name to have, but that was all it was, a name. A name doesn't lay out your future. His name could be Loser Zero and he would still win the thing.

"My name has nothing to do with it," commented Aren. "Despite what you might initially think upon hearing my name, I am a winner. I may not look like much, but my intelligence will help me define myself, instead of letting my name do that."

Instead of withdrawing due to embarrassment or snapping back in anger, Aren's response was that of pure astuteness. He was showing himself to be truly someone to watch out for.

His three minutes ended rather quickly. Every time Elijah kindly insulted him, Aren would come back with an intelligent remark that would make Elijah shut up. I didn't know how he did it, but even I was in awe of him. When his time finished, he switched places with the District Two girl, Astra. Turquoise patted Aren on the shoulder as he sat down beside her. I held myself back from congratulating him on his successful interview. He was bound to get sponsors for that show. But we were enemies and it would be inappropriate for me to do so.

Astra was the typical District Two tribute. Despite me coming of judgmental for thinking so, I found her attitude too much to handle. Every comment Elijah made, Astra came off more and more rude. I didn't know how Elijah managed not to slap the brunette. Her district partner, Onyx, was no better. I at first though of him as someone I might be able to deal with. He was rather friendly during training, even when he was showing off. But today, he was harsh and very aggressive. Elijah made the comment for him to keep that until tomorrow for the arena. It was meant as a joke, but Onyx didn't seem to get that. In other words, both were moody and hard to deal with.

District Three finally came up and first was the girl. Her name was Hub Bishop. She was a sweet girl, when you got her to talk. The interview was mainly Elijah talking and the copper-haired girl nodding along. When finally asked a question, she would only give small responses. Nothing describing her personal opinion on anything, just a simple 'yes' or 'no'. Sometimes she would give a short dialogue, but nothing to deep. I feel like normally Elijah would hate to have someone like this, but after dealing with the emotional District Two, he was probably thinking Hub was Heaven sent.

Rotary came next. I was silently cheering him on to do well. While we never really communicated, we seemed to have an understanding; a silent understanding. I would smile at him when we pass and he would smile back, something the black-haired boy wouldn't do for many others. He seemed to do it only for his district partner and Whitney. The fact I was worth a smile made me a little more confident.

"So how is your confidence in yourself when it comes to the Games?" asked Elijah.

It was half way through the interview and Rotary wasn't doing so well. He hadn't been speaking much; a little more than Hub had. He didn't make eye contact with Elijah, which apparently was basic interview 101 in Valentina's book. He mumbled a lot and was making the interview awkward to say the least. When asked this question, Rotary seemed to break.

"I am going to lose. I know this," he replied.

The complete opposite of Aren. There was no confidence anywhere when Rotary answered. I was starting to feel a little depressed when he answered. I had wanted him to do well, but he was completely tanking.

"W-why do you say that?" Elijah asked, stuttering at first.

No one in history had been so uncertain during their interviews. It was only to be expected that Elijah would be thrown off.

"I am not going to let people waste their money on supporting me when there is much stronger tributes during the Games," replied Rotary.

"Oh, so humble," said Elijah, trying to write Rotary pessimism as humbleness for the audience.

No one was buying it, not even himself. But people just 'oo-ed' and 'aw-ed' as they were supposed to and the awkward interview continued on. By the time the three minutes were up, Elijah was almost pushing Rotary off the stage. He couldn't get rid of him quick enough. As he walked off the stage, we made eye contact with each other. His expression was easy enough to read. He was panicking. He was anxious, knowing he didn't make a good enough impression to survive the next few weeks. I gave a small smile, but that wasn't enough. I knew it wouldn't be. The only way I could calm him down is to walk with him, but that was out of the question. Not here. It wasn't appropriate. He knew that and went to sit in a corner away from everybody. I felt guilty watching him sit by himself.

District Four came and went. Faye was first. She acted charming and was obviously weak. She seemed to almost be pushing her weakness, which made it seem almost suspicious. Her alliance with the other Careers was brought up. The brunette seemed uneasy talking about them. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully, as to not insult anyone. She had a plan. Everyone knew that, but no one knew what it was.

Drake came next and every girl swooned upon his entrance. He wore a dark navy blue suit with silver lining. It looked less the ocean it was supposed to represent and more like the starry night sky that was quickly approaching. He was beyond charming as he smiled to the audience, his white smile shining in the spotlights. His green eyes seemed to attach themselves to everyone, making it seem like he was talking to everyone personally. His character was also delightful. He was ready for the Games, taking all problems associated with them in stride. He didn't seem to care about the idea of death, instead writing it off as a necessary evil of adventure. Describing the Games as an adventure was something new to me. It made me like Drake a whole lot less.

Crystal was next. She was wearing a very feminine dress. I could only assume her stylist didn't like her. From what I gathered, she liked to dress up in masculine clothing, preferring them over the female-orientated clothing like Whitney did. She sat in the chair awkwardly while wearing the white cupcake dress that looked like his was eating her. She tried to answer the questions, but her situation didn't improve. Elijah would bring up her wearing a boy's work-out outfit during training and would tease her about her short hair. The audience took it as harmful teasing, but Crystal obviously felt it as an attack. I didn't blame her. It really felt like Elijah was making fun of her and would look that way to anyone outside the Capitol.

Whitney came next. She looked weird wearing a black suit. He wasn't wearing anything that would make him mistakable for a female. She instead looked like she did when she had been reaped, a thin, weak-looking boy. If I had met her like this, I wouldn't have been so confused.

I felt sorry for Whitney as the interview started. She was confidently sitting there, even when out of her comfortable feminine clothing, when Elijah started to ask the hard questions.

"How is it being 'female in a male's body', as you put it?" asked Elijah.

Whitney explained to me the term was transgender during lunch one day. I never heard the term before, but she went on to explain to me that it is an uncommon word today. It is frowned upon in this society due to people not understanding it. People fear what they don't know. That is why people refuse to go underneath the fence and into the wilderness, because the fear of the unknown. That is why people refuse to fight the Peacekeepers who hurt them, because the fear of the unknown.

"It is hard to explain being transgender to someone who doesn't understand it," she answered, putting emphasis on 'transgender'. "I can only explain that it can be tiring trying to find acceptance in a community that is scared of the unknown. The only thing that helps me continue on is knowing there are those good people out there that accept me for me."

I smile at Whitney's words. She was so bright that it was heartwarming. I could feel there were a few people in the audience that saw the same thing. But I could also feel there were people who were confused at Whitney and didn't like her for being different.

"But you're a boy," said Elijah. "What's so difficult about that?"

It didn't seem it was registering with Elijah. He was just saying words that were written down for him and not realizing what he was saying.

"I am a girl in a boy's body, simple as that," said Whitney.

"But you're still in a boy's body and isn't gender defined by that?" asked Elijah.

It seemed almost vicious the way he was talking to her. It was like he was insulting everything she was. I could see it on Whitney's face that she knew what he was doing. She was holding back tears and biting her tongue. She had faith in people and that was slowly starting to fade away as the conversation with Elijah continued.

When her interview was down, she pretty much ran off the stage and out of the waiting area. Her mentor was there waiting for her and escorted her away from prying eyes. Whitney was heartbroken by the ignorance of people and I wanted to comfort her too. Still, it was inappropriate and I held back.

District Six came and went. The girl, Acadia, was well-liked by the audience. She received tons of claps and people were ecstatic about her answers. She was also ready for the Games, much like Drake, but showed sympathy for the dead. She showed a heart to the audience, but I was, at this point, so cynical, I didn't know whether to believe it was real or not. Styx, the male tribute, showed a stronger side. He was physical ample and held back the more emotional side of him. He showed just enough to get the audience to like him, but no enough to show any weakness.

District Seven included Harper West and Rowan. Harper West seemed almost the only way to address. It was almost an insult to only call her by her first name. She was a confident girl who showed a brilliantly shining side of her. She was about as smart as Aren and as social as Drake and Acadia. She had even volunteered. While it was unheard in the outer districts, volunteers still existed in other districts. I had almost forgotten that seeing how there hadn't been a volunteer outside of the Career district for so long. She was so confident that she had volunteered instinctively. She was another threat that I didn't like Someone from Seven volunteering made me uneasy. Rowan however was nicer. He hadn't volunteered, but alright with being reaped. He came off softer and easier to swallow than his district partner had been. The audience wasn't as wrapped up in with him as they had been with the blonde, but they still enjoyed the black-haired male tribute.

The following district, District Eight, included Lacey and Aidan. Lacey came off as a quiet observer, someone Rotary could appreciate. I looked over to him, finding him watching Lacey with a straight face. He didn't seem to take an interest in her either way, instead seeming to only be watching her as a way to determine her value. I found her entertaining to watch. Instead of cheerful and welcoming like many of the other tributes had been, she remained blunt and mocking. While she didn't talk much, when she did, it was to pretty much tell Elijah he was wrong. She seemed incredibly focused and someone I would want in an alliance. The Careers weren't focused on the interviews of the other tributes. Faye seemed to be watching them on and off, but that was it. I took this as a safe opportunity to scout out people for alliances without their knowledge.

Aidan was shorter than his district partner. Lacey had stood around five-foot eight or nine, while he was closer to my height. Actually it was more like she was incredibly tall, as most people I know who don't get much food, so many people in the districts, were around my height. Aidan didn't make much idle chit-chat and only spoke when spoken to. He seemed to have issues with talking about his home life, even when Elijah brought it up. Elijah had mentioned how emotionless his father had looked when Aidan had been reaped and for details on that. Aidan just said that was how his father showed his sadness, that he wasn't one for showing something so unnecessary on the outside. Listening to him say this made me some how sad. I felt like if that is how parents were, I was glad not to have any. As the interview continued I did notice something was up with Aidan. His arm seemed off. His right was alright, as proven when shaking Elijah's extended hand just perfectly. But when it came to his left arm, he couldn't seem to do much with it. He did manage to make a slight closed fist with it when sitting, trying to grip the arm rest, but that was just barely.

When Aidan went to leave, Elijah clapped him on the back in good nature. Aidan jumped a bit at the motion and I finally realized what was wrong with him. The no-talking-unless-spoken-to, the problem with the arm, the shakiness when touched. I had seen it in all too often in some of the kids who were at the community home. He had been abused, severely. It was sad to think that someone could still be hurt like that, by family none the less, in a world that was supposed to be perfectly safe.

After Aidan came the District Nine tributes. First was a girl named Hazel Summers. I had to hold back laughter during her interview. Every time Elijah would ask her a question, she would ask one back. Her suspicions of the interviewer were as apparent as the hair on my head. Elijah became troubled around her, but that only made her even more mistrustful. Elijah had deserved this with all his rude comment he made towards the other tributes. I wanted to shout this at him, and upon looking around, I could tell a few of the other tributes watching wanted to as well.

Following Hazel was the boy named Meyer. He was depressing to listen to, but in no fault of his own. Apparently his sister had died in some earlier Games. She had participated in the 293rd Hunger Games and was called Lissa. I vaguely remember her from the Games. She died in a brutal slaying in the hands of the District Two male.

Many of this year's tributes had a family member in the previous Games. Along with Meyer, there was Onyx's mother, Astra's mother, the District Eleven male tribute's brother, and Faye's brother. Apparently bother District Two tributes' mothers, both Onyx and Astra's, had won their respective Games. That made me concerned due to their closeness with both living in their district's Victor's Village. Faye's brother, Frederick, had also died during the Bloodbath, having received a cold death. His death could rival Lissa's. And I had heard the District Eleven boy, Brendan I think, talk about his brother dying in the Games too, having almost won the Games if not for the District Two tribute that killed him with poison and a knife to the back. Just thinking of all this made me think this year's Games were going to be even more cold. There were so many people with a vendetta against the Games for taking their family member or people who wanted to live up to the glory of their family member that these Games were going to be a true show of power.

After Meyer came District Ten. It was getting close to my interview, but I didn't want to think about it. I was still a bit nervous when I thought about it and Freed had told me nervousness led to pimples and pimples led to no sponsors. I needed sponsors, so I couldn't deal with pimples at a time like this.

District Ten started with the female tribute, Barberry Devon. She came off cocky to me at least, despite not saying much. I swear she said like three words the entirety of the three minutes and still I didn't like her, not a bit. She seemed to hog attention away from anything on stage just with her expressions, making people want to look at her. Once all the eyes were on her, she refused to say anything. It seemed selfish to me and stuck-up. I never thought I would see a District Ten tribute behave like this, but there I was watching it with my very eyes. Proceeding Barberry was Buck, simply Buck. He was like me, living in a community home, orphaned at a young age. Unlike myself however, his parents willingly abandoned him. While I never knew my parents, much like him, I would like to continue to think they didn't maliciously abandon me. Buck however seemed to think the opposite. He showed open distaste for the people that once were his parents. He considers them nothing but weak people who don't deserve to have anything for abandoning him in such a wretched place. My community home back in District Twelve wasn't the nicest place to live by far, but hearing Buck's description of his home, mine was nothing in comparison. Even after dealing with the straight up abuse the home gave, he stilled rebelled. Even now he was rebelling by talking about the hardships of living there. I respected him even more while I listened.

District Eleven followed, starting with Vintage Till. I had thought District One had some weird names, but Vintage sure was up there. Her name apparently meant the quality of wine, which would make sense since her family worked in a vineyard back home. Still a weird name for a weird girl. She was weird. Every time she spoke, which was often I'll give you that, she spoke in riddles. Every time she would answer one of Elijah's questions, it took a lot of thinking just to get what she was saying. Not many people were enjoying, let alone Elijah, but I could a few tributes found it humourous. Rotary sure did, as did Faye surprising enough. I don't know why Elijah continued to ask her questions. Maybe he thought she was bound to answer one of them normally, but she never did.

Brendan, the boy whose brother died in the Games, was next. He came on with a smile, making people feel a little more at ease just by looking at him. Elijah started the conversation with hesitation, afraid of having another Vintage. When he realized that Brendan was indeed by definition "normal", Elijah calmed down. There was something about Elijah. He was talking with such a straight face that made him seem untrustworthy. His aura was not right. I couldn't tell if he was lying or not about some of the things he was talking about. He didn't seem to be lying, but still, his atmosphere gave me the impression he was. He talked brightly about the Capitol and Elijah, making Elijah even more happy.

When finished, it was finally my turn. I won't lie, I was beyond nervous, instead a mixture of frightened and apprehensive. I managed to stumble my way out to the stage when I was introduced. Elijah said my surname, which made me cringe. Thankfully it didn't seem to be noticed by anyone.

"So, you too live at a community home without any family," comment Elijah.

Buck had just gone, who was an orphan like myself. With that in mind, the audience and Elijah were probably assuming I would be like him, openly hating on everything that was life. They couldn't be more wrong.

"Yes, but I don't like to think of myself without a family," I said. "I do have a family. My mates back home are my family. My closest friend, Peony, is like my sister."

I could just picture Peony crying when I brought her up. I managed to silently apologize to her in my head, but I had to speak. If I didn't, I would probably be picked apart by Elijah just like everyone else prior to me.

"It's so nice to see even the orphans of Panem still manage to find something to live on for," said Elijah.

"Well, I am sure not "living on for" your comments," I muttered.

I bit my tongue as soon as I realized I said that aloud. The crowd laughed at my comment, but I could tell Elijah did not like it. I hadn't liked what he had said to a few of the other tributes, the good kids who didn't deserve to be here, and now his comments to me were throwing me over the edge. I didn't think what I was saying. I just said it.

The rest of my interview went on with a slight hostility between us. The audience didn't seem to notice, but it was like Elijah and I were throwing invisible knives at each other. I try desperately to be nice to everyone. I try to set a good example for my mates, especially Peony. But when introduced to someone like this, I cannot help but fight back. I was like that when I first met Valentina. I was still like that around Morpheus. That little bit of spirit I have deep down in me fights to come out when presented with this type of situation. I manage to keep it under control most times, but sometimes, just sometimes, it comes out.

When finished, Elijah and I shake hands. He grips my hand tightly, as if to tell me that he doesn't forgive the little spats I had just sent his way. He won't ever forgive me. I claps his hand tighter, telling him I don't plan to either.

Following my interview was Morpheus. Elijah tries to throw him off by doing what he did to me, insulting him through compliments. But it didn't faze Morpheus. He manages to change the topic whenever things were getting too much for him. He did it with such ease that I stood in the area in amaze. This person I hate so much is making me admire him. I don't know how he did it, but I was getting confused. Morpheus soon ended and Elijah was left along on the stage. Morpheus walked over to me and smirked.

"Don't go crushing on me," he said before leaving.

I wanted to throw one of my shoes at his head. Of course I wouldn't ever like him like that. I was merely admiring his handle on the situation. But now all that admiration was gone and replaced with pure hatred once more.

"As our time comes to an end, I would like to thank all the tributes who are with us for the 295th annual Hunger Games," said Elijah.

The crowd cheers as if automated by a machine. I don't know how they get everyone to clap and whistle, but it seems they do. I peek out from behind the curtain and notice how lively the crowd is as a few streams of lights track over the crowd in the now complete darkness of the night. Freed, Valentina, and even the Gamemakers were somewhere in the crowd, but it was too dark and there were too many people for me to tell where. Instead I went back behind the curtain and took a big breath. All those people watched me. It was a scary thought to think about. I never really had stage fright before, but then again I had never been in front of so many people. Is it still stage fright when you get scare after the fact?

"May the odds be ever in their favour," added Elijah.

I was starting to hate that phrase.

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**How'd you like the tributes so far? Who is your favourite? Make sure to review and leave your opinion on everything that has happened and what you think will happen next.  
**


	13. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_  
_'History Lesson'_

* * *

After the interviews, Valentina came and ushered us away back to our floor. I did manage to send a smile or two to Whitney and Rotary before disappearing. I don't know if they saw, but I would like to hope they did and they understood. Once back at the floor, I was sent off to bed. The Games and their preparations would start early the upcoming morning and I needed rest. Heaven knows when I would get it again. I managed to get into my nightgown before I plopped down in my plush bed. I didn't care about my makeup or hair. Who cared really? My team would do my hair one last time tomorrow and makeup didn't matter, so why should I care.

I tried to drift to sleep, but instead I rolled around, unable to get anything but more and more antsy. I was thinking of the Games. Who wouldn't be before they were about to be sent off to them?

When I was born, it was the year of the 280th Games. That year apparently more people died in the Bloodbath than ever before. The average number ranges between eight to half of the tributes dying. That year around seventeen tributes died, leaving only seven to play. Many people didn't like those Games. The Capitol found it boring and the districts found it heartbreaking. I obviously don't remember it, just being born and all, but a few of the older kids at my home remember it a bit. They really remember how the adults would cry and scream at the Peacekeepers during those Games. It was the first day of those Games that another rebellion almost started. If the Capitol hadn't stepped in, many people would have died fighting a useless battle.

Growing up, I handled watching thirteen Games. When I was one, a few of the older kids managed to keep me, along with some of the younger kids in the home, from seeing them. They said we didn't need to see something so bloody so young. I didn't truly understand, but then again, I was only one. By the time I turned two, I finally got what they were saying. My first Games, the 282nd, was one that scarred my memories. I was still too young to understand what was going on, but I was still aware enough to understand that those kids on the television were dying at each other's hands.

By the time the 290th Games played, ten years after my birth, I had grown to fade out during the airing of the Games. I would physically be there, but not mentally. I never tried to question the Capitol's decisions, but that became increasingly hard when the Games would come along. The Bloodbath especially; it was hard to watch as people you had come to know would go and die at the hands of other people you had come to be acquainted to through the Capitol.

The 290th Games were the Games in particular that Brendon's brother died. I was ten when it happened. Brendan is apparently the same age as me, thus meaning he watched as his brother died when he was only ten. His brother, a boy from District Eleven, made it to second place, which was uncommon for someone from the other districts. Even District Twelve was proud of someone like him, even though our tributes had already died. In the end though his brother died at the hands of the District Two male tribute, who used poison to incapacitate him and finished him off with a knife. It was a severe way to die. During the Victory Tour, when the District Two male, the winner of the Games, came to District Twelve, we only greeted him with silence. We showed him neither respect nor any type of welcome in our home.

It was two years later, during the 292nd Hunger Games, when Faye's brother, Frederick, died. I didn't remember him much when I first watched the Games. I had just started to put my name in the drawing and was so concerned that I would be chosen. When I wasn't, I was so relieved that I didn't pay attention. Also, by that point I was a master at fading out and back in when the situation commanded it. The reruns we watched on the train gave us a glimpse at the fallen tributes during the Games, but mainly focused on the winners. Still I got to see who Faye's brother was. He seemed to be a nice older brother type who anyone would want in the family. Strong, athletic, protective were all traits that could be used to describe him. From Faye's words on him, she adored her older brother. He ended up dying in the Bloodbath at the hands of one of the Careers he was supposed to be on an alliance with. It seemed a bit strange that his sister would be in alliance with Careers after that happened, but who am I to question the need to win.

The next year was when Meyer's sister died. She was someone I actually remembered. Her will to live made me connect with her a bit as I watched her. Even though neither of the tributes from my district had died yet, I was secretly wishing for her to win. Still, she ended up dying by the hands of one of the much bigger, stronger districts. It was a terrifying end to her life, framed with blood. I don't like remembering her death and I can assume neither does Meyer. Her death included losing only part of her head.

There were many Games that I remembered through my life, but none that I would ever want to relive. They were all too brutal. And being reaped didn't help with those memories. Normally I would only have to deal with seeing the ones I was alive for, but being a tribute, I had to watch all of the previous Games that had a living winner. That included the ones featuring Onyx's and Astra's mothers.

The first to come was the 263rd Games in which Astra's mom won. Her mother, Kaila, was only 16 when she won. Still, she was much stronger, faster, and smarter than all the other tributes. Which, in turn, led to her victory. Kaila was ruthless and took what she needed to win. Watching the recap of her Games, I found out that the Capitol loved her. They sent her many gifts which also helped insure her life continued on.

Onyx's mother, Silver, won the Games two years before I was born. She was a bit less scary than Kaila, but not by much. She was a quick, almost conniving tribute who stabbed people in the back when it came down to it. If this was Onyx's mother, I would be scared to see how he was raised and what he would do now.

These, along with many more, are what I watched on the train with Morpheus to help prepare me. I don't think it did though. It may be prepared me to die, but it didn't motivate me to try to continue to live. Every one of those Games, the ones I live through and the ones I watched on repeat, in every one of them, the District Twelve tributes always died. Back to the 250th Games, the earliest of the Games that still had a victory living, the District Twelve tributes never won. That was why we didn't have a mentor. Why we were stuck with only Valentina. Why we felt so screwed.

Something Morpheus said stuck with me. It was when we were watching the repeats. He had said… "These are all fixed." It was more of a mutter, but I still could hear it, whether he wanted me to or not. I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. But still, they stuck with me. I still couldn't think that the Capitol or the Gamemakers would fix the Games, not to any degree. It wouldn't be fair. But Morpheus could be right. The idea startled me. In any of those forty-five Games, not once had the District Twelve tributes gotten as far as the top six. I find it hard to believe that the previous president, the president I had respected and had come to know for the first ten years of my life, was part of that. President Tarn was one of the better presidents we have had, even the elderly would say that. I wouldn't be surprised someone like President Haze, our current president, would be up to something like that, but not President Tarn.

I continued to think about all this as it cluttered my mind, as I laid in my bed. Somewhere between the bloody scenes of previous Games or the idea President Tarn not living up to my idea of him, I managed to fall into sleep. A not to deep sleep, but sleep none-the-less.

* * *

**The Games start next chapter, I promise.  
**


	14. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_  
_'Ready! Set! Go!'_

* * *

The next morning I am awoken by Valentina shaking my body. I had slept in past her schedule. In reality it was only five minutes, but now her entire schedule was off and five minutes was very important. I had to either decide if I wanted a shower to get all the grime off of me and breakfast or if I wanted to continue to sleep in and skip both. I chose the former and jumped out of bed. Jumped may be an overstatement. More like I sluggishly rolled out of bed and almost landed on face-down on the floor at Valentina's feet.

I somehow managed to navigate into the shower. I hadn't gotten much sleep, so my eyes weren't entirely open nor was my brain even on. I punch a few buttons that seemed right. Man, I wish I hadn't. I was first sprayed from every direction by a creamy yellow liquid that smelled like snapdragons and cucumbers; what a combinations. Once the liquid coated my skin, sticking to it so much I could barely get it off, water jets pulsated out of the walls and soaked my body. The pressure from them shook me awake finally. They somehow managed to get the now hardened creamy yellow mixture off my skin, leaving me almost sparkling. My hair was another story. It was still hard from the amount of hairspray I had used the night before. For my hair, the shower dropped foamy pink stuff onto my head. So far I smelled like snapdragons and cucumbers, so why not add a third smell, right? This one smelled like butterscotch, despite its pink hue. I managed to lather the gunk into my hair before the water once again pulsated onto my head, washing all the pink away. Now I was clean and smelled like a buffet and its centerpiece.

I got out of the shower and dried myself off. The Capitol has a fancy gadget that automatically dries you off with hot air. It even combs out your hair for you. But I find the invention awkward enough. Today was not a day I wanted to have to deal with something I like, particularly because I probably wasn't ever going to see it again. I didn't want to become hooked on useless machines that do stuff that I can already do manually. Instead, I avoided stepping in to the area that triggers the wind-tunnel effect and died my body and hair off with a towel. My hair remained a bit moist even after drying it, but it felt nicer to me that way. It felt like I was at home almost. Like I could open the door and find Peony standing there waiting for me. But I couldn't because I wasn't. Instead I opened the door to find a strange outfit on my bed.

It wasn't one of Freed's normal outfits, but instead one that was plain and looked readied for action. It hit me that this was what I would wear when entering the arena. It was a plain black spandex one-piece suit that zipped up the back. Once on I put on the accompanying black jacket with a silver '12' on each arm.. It was somewhat puffy, but warm. The entire outfit was warm, like it was circling my body heat inside of me. Afterwards I put on the simple black boots. When finished, I looked myself in the mirror. I was not expecting what I saw. Albeit my hair was a mess from the shower, I looked ready for what was about to happen next. I looked physically ready, but my mind was still a minefield of confusion. Like every step I took, I was afraid I was going to set off another explosion that would cause me to break down or fade away.

My door swung open as I stared at myself in the mirror. There had been no knock. There hadn't needed to be. It was Freed and he had already seen me naked. There was no embarrassment between him and me. Even though now I was dressed, I don't think it would have been any different if I wasn't.

"You look fabulous, other than your hair," he said. "Why is it still wet?!"

He almost shrieked when he felt my hair. I chuckled a bit by his exclamation. I hadn't wanted it to be dried the Capitol way, which was probably the only way he was used to. He shook his head at my giggle and continued on with his criticizing. How dare I leave my hair wet! It wasn't good for my hair or my health for me not to dry it properly! He said all this and more as he wrung out my hair with the towel. By the time he was done, my hair was truly dry. I was a bit disappointed, but let it go when I noticed how proud Freed was in the mirror.

"You're going to do awesome," he said.

He was truly happy. I couldn't help by catch his contagious smile.

"We need to get you some breakfast before heading off to the port," instructed Freed. "I bet Valentina is about to tell us to leave. So we should hurry so you get some food."

I nodded. This would probably be the last time I would have breakfast for the next few days and I should take advantage of it. I rushed to the dining room at Freed's suggestion and sat down. A plate had already been set for me. It was stacked high with all sorts of food, ranging from those packed with protein to those filled with vitamins. I didn't know who set it for me, but I wasn't about to question. I instead grabbed a fork and began to stuff my mouth. I ate so much that the flavours started to run together. Normally I liked to savour my food like it was the last meal I would have, but today was not one of those days. It might have been the last meal I would ever have and I wasn't about to waste my time on trying to distinguish flavours. It was for the best though as just as soon as I sat down, Valentina came in and told as to go. Or at least it felt that way. I grabbed a few rolls and snuck them into my sleeve. If I was good I could sneak them behind Valentina's back in the elevator.

Once in the elevator I stood against the glass wall behind Valentina, who stared at the doors. She was speaking, but I wasn't listening. I was too focused on my bread. My concentration broke when I noticed Morpheus looking at me with tempting eyes. He was staring at the bread. He didn't look like he had slept much either and I had also noticed he was a bit late to breakfast also. His eyes switched from my bread to mine. They read he would tell if I didn't share. I still had another roll, so I handed him the extra roll. That sustained him and got me out of from underneath his gaze. Valentina didn't notice us at all as we ate.

We got to the lobby and we ushered out a door. There was a hovercraft there where all the tributes were being pushed to. I ended up onboard and sitting at the end of one of the rows. I ended up with Styx to my right and Harper across from me. Both were keeping a straight face. I tried too as well, but I bet my expression was easy to read. I was anxious. What could the arena be this year? Who was going to die in this year's Bloodbath? All these questions rushed through my head. I was thinking so hard that I hadn't noticed one of the attendants walking up to me with a large needle and injecting something into my arm. I finally realized it when some faint light started to blink underneath my skin, changing from a deep red to a light blue and soon fading out.

"It is your tracking device for the arena," said the attendant as I looked at the disappearing light.

I was going to be tracked. I figured something like this would happen. I didn't know how though. Maybe in our clothes, but those could easily be taken off. We would have to cut off our arm or rip skin to get it out this way. No way to disappear. For some reason that made me feel uneasy.

Once everyone was on board the hovercraft, we were lifted high into the air. There were no windows on the hovercraft. No one was ever allowed to see the outside of Panem. We weren't technically allowed to travel to any other district outside of our own. Being a tribute, I was given the privilege to travel through them all to the Capitol. That was where my privileges ended however. Even as a tribute, I was unable to see what lay just beyond the walls of Panem, where the arenas were constructed. I was able to feel how quickly the hovercraft travel. It felt like it was simply gliding in the air at breakneck speeds. And before long, we began to land.

We were just as quickly ushered off as we were ushered on. Instead of a roof, like when we took off, we were already inside of a room. A large stark white bunker to be exact. I followed a Peacekeeper, like instructed, through one of the doors against the far south wall, which was curved in a horseshoe fashion. On the door was a large number '12' in black paint. That would only mean that the room on the other side was meant for me. The Peacekeeper left me alone in the small room. There was only a lounge chair and a tube in the room. I took a seat on the chair when the door opened again. Freed walked in.

"Hello!" he cried out, throwing his arms around me and pulling me up into a strong hug.

It was times like this I would remember he was truly a male, through and through. His grip finally loosened after a bit, allowing me to breath.

"I am so upset you have to go," he said, actually tearing up.

I hate it when people cry like this. It made me want to cry as well. My mates say it is because I am empathetic. Whatever it is because, I just don't like it.

"You are such a sweet girl," he added.

It felt nice though that someone like Freed was seeing me off. I knew I shouldn't let my guard down now, instead keeping a barrier up even before the Games started, but it was hard. Freed's words let me drop the wall for a little bit. I hugged him back.

"Thank-you," I whispered.

He smiled. Suddenly a loud, female voice rang out over the speakers.

"Five minutes!" she said.

Five minutes until I would be lifted up through the tube and injected into the Games. Freed let go of me and looked me over. He fixed my hair a little bit, though it really didn't need to be. I think he was just trying to keep a calm face, even though he was as much of a mess on the inside as I was.

"It is about time for you to go," he said.

He gestured me to the tube. There was one side open, allowing me to walk in. Once inside, the tube closed up fully.

"You'll do fine," Freed said, though it was hard to hear him through the thick glass of the tube.

Soon the lady's voice reappeared and it began.

"Sixty… Fifty-nine…"

The countdown to the start of the Games. I began to raise in the tube and soon Freed was completely. It was totally black for a few seconds until I was blinded by the sudden sunshine.


	15. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_  
_'Arena'_

* * *

When I was finally able to see, I got a look at my surroundings. They were very creative this year in the terms of the arena. I wasn't expecting what I saw, and neither probably could half of Panem. Even with what the Gamemakers should have learned from previous Games, like what worked and didn't work in terms of terrain. They seemed to have ignored all that with this year's Games. Surrounding me was nothing but a flat rock surface. It looked like one sheet of straight rock with no vegetation of any sort to be seen. Aside from the provided water source, there seemed to be no resources presented. The water source surrounded the sheet of rock. It looked like the rock was an island of some sort in the middle of a large body of water. The island appeared to be around 240 yards, give or take.

_Where do they expect us to hide?_ I wondered.

There was no trees, no brush, no other islands to swim to, nothing… There were no places to hide making us all sitting ducks for an attack. They would never do that normally. It would only lead to a quick finish, which would be boring. Still, it looked like they had just provided us with a single, stark island. No, I shouldn't say stark. There was the Cornucopia. This year it was a forty foot tower about 20 to 25 feet wide made of a silvery, shiny metal. It looked hollow, though I couldn't tell. The only entrance was a small arc that allowed a limited view of the inside. Around the mouth of the archway were black nylon bags to entice people to it. I couldn't see any weapons, but that didn't mean they weren't on the inside.

Along with the towering Cornucopia, there were eight holes. From where I stood I could only see seven, but based on their pattern, I could only speculate there was an eighth hiding in the shadow of the tower. They were spaced evenly, circling the tower. The holes didn't look shallow, but they sure as hell did not look very big. I guess the Gamemakers made the holes for us to hide in, though I still had my doubts into how it would all work out.

"Forty… Thirty-nine…"

The countdown continued as I took in my environment. I say no other place to hide, strike the water around us. That only left the holes. I guessed there must be something more to the holes, unless the Gamemakers wanted a boring Game. So I couldn't rule the holes just yet.

"Thirty-five… Thirty-four…"

I still didn't have a good plan yet. I didn't have a mentor to help me plan this far ahead, like many of the other tributes, and Valentina definitely did not know anything about strategy. Still, I couldn't help but look around at the other tributes as I tried to think up something; in the end distracting myself even more.

On one side was Aren and the other Rowan, from District Seven. Aren looked like he already had a plan. Figures. He was a Career, so his plan was already set by that. For the Bloodbath he would team up with the other Careers and take out as many tributes as possible. However, Rowan, who was for sure not a Career, also seemed ready for the Games. He was close enough for me to see his squinting eyes focused on the Cornucopia. That sweet boy from the interviews was gone and replaced with one filled with determination that could be easily read on his face.

I continued to look around the tributes. Most were ready. Those that were not were easy to distinguish. They were shaking in their boots; some metaphorically, some literally. The girl from District Nine, I remember her name being Hazel, was one of them. She was the girl who was suspicious of everything and everyone. I could tell, even though she was like eight people down from me, that she was questioning the entire arena. Usually questioning everything helps keep you alive. It means you won't fall for stuff as easily as others might, but she seemed to be taking it a step further and that might end up hurting her in the long run. How could a twelve-year old question everything like that?

_Stop it, Myrtle!_ I shout at myself in my mind. _These are your enemies now. You cannot keep thinking of how to help them. Their short-comings are your strengths._

Still, I couldn't help but look at her district partner, Meyer. He stood on a platform across from her on the rock island. He seemed also to be stressing. I could only imagine as his sister had died just two years ago after standing on a platform of her own. I wouldn't like the idea of being here if my sister had died in the Games. I didn't like being here anyway, so I would hate it even more.

As I stared at Meyer, a large explosion came from just two people to my right. I didn't have time to react. None of us did. Where Acadia from District Six had been standing was now a crater in the ground. Her explosions had set off. I had seen her playing with something in her hand, rolling it around in her tightly clenched fist. It was probably her token, though I couldn't tell what it was. She must have dropped it as soon all that was left of her was the bloody flesh raining down from the sky. The sound of the first cannon rang out, trying to compete with the still present countdown.

"What the hell!"

The shout came from the boy across the way, her district partner, Styx. He seemed not really surprised, like the rest of us, but more stunned. It was apparent he and Morpheus had an alliance including Acadia. I don't think he was expecting someone in his alliance to be gone so quickly. He wasn't crying. You don't cry in the arena. But his voice said that if it were any place outside of where we were now, there would be some tears.

One down with twenty seconds still left on the countdown. I don't know how sixty seconds could go by so slowly, but time seemed to officially stop for all of us. Even the Careers, the ones who had trained for this their entire life, seemed confused as to what was going on. They weren't prepared. I could have used that to my advantage, but I was just as equally confused. I ended up just standing there, not preparing for anything. I was positioned to run towards the Cornucopia or any of the holes. I wasn't ready to turn around and swim for safety. I wasn't ready for anything. I just stood there.

"Five… Four… Three…"

The countdown was coming to a close. What was I going to do? I didn't have an answer. All I could think of doing was just to do it. I know that sounds vague, but my brain wasn't really telling me anything specific. It was so cluttered with just witnessing a gory death. I knew there was going to be death. That was one thing the Hunger Games promised. And I had seen some pretty gruesome deaths on the television. But seeing on the television and witnessing it in real life are two totally different things. There was nothing you could do to prepare yourself for such horrific sights.

"Two… One…"

The countdown hit one and most of the other tributes seemed to snap out of it when the lady spoke that final number. I was still a bit dazed, but managed to move. Still, the world seemed too slow. I felt like everything was moving in slow motion. I felt like I was walking towards the hole set a couple yard in front of me instead of running like I truly was. A few other tributes around me, like Rowan and Aren, ran pasted me towards the Cornucopia. I managed to get to the hole just as so many of the other tributes got to the Cornucopia. I ended up witnessing my second death at that moment.

* * *

**Well, there you go. The arena is going to be holes. Just kidding there, but no really, there is a bunch of holes. I will get into it deeper (no joke intended) when Myrtle starts exploring. I am starting to regret her name now. Myrtle is such a weird name, both to say and write. I like the other characters I named, but Myrtle not so much. Well, she isn't my most favourite character I have made either. I'll just say it. But things will get better, for me at least, near the end of this story. I already have chapters mapped out and the story planned. I'm sorry if it feels like I am dragging it out, but I am trying to stick to my plan.  
**

**So tune in for the next chapter to see who bites the dust next. Who do you think it will be? What do you think of Acadia's death? I don't want to kill these characters! I love them all!**

**Deaths This Chapter:**

* Acadia Ford: Placed 24th; Died by explosives.


	16. Chapter 15

**Is it weird that I made Myrtle in the Sims game and had her make a family?**

* * *

_Chapter 15_  
_'Dealing With Injuries'_

* * *

What was he doing? Cutting down people like they were nothing. I had known Morpheus to do some horrible things, but usually they were never worse than those harsh insults and maybe a tussle. Yet here he was, killing another tribute like it was nothing. Morpheus had managed to get to the Cornucopia. While the Careers were busy with the weaker tributes, Morpheus was left alone to do as he pleased. He was slashing at any tribute that got near him, while his partner, Styx, fought even more tributes beside him. One tribute in particular caused me the most heartbreak. The second death was at his hands.

He wielded a sword, the only one I saw on the field. He was swinging it like a pro, though most of his hits were only flesh wounds. That was until Meyer got caught next to him. It looked like Meyer was just trying to get into a nearby hole, but his route ended up being within arm's reach of Morpheus. Morpheus swung the sword, lodging it into Meyer's chest. Meyer looked like he actually flew back by the force. Pulling his sword from the boy's chest, Morpheus smiled with glee at the scene. Can someone smile gleefully at another's pain? After seeing Morpheus face twist into an expression I could only define as true delight, I would have to say yes. Meyer wasn't dying quickly, though I wish he would have. He didn't deserve to have such a drawn out death, but it didn't look like Morpheus was making any sign of finishing him off. He was obviously going to die, as evident by the blood pouring out of his gaping mouth, and all the while Morpheus appeared to be enjoying it. I don't know what was going on in his mind, but it scared me. By the time Morpheus finally sliced the sword into his head, killing him, it looked like Meyer had already gone through excruciating pain. His family… Oh, his family. I could only imagine what they were going through watching this. First their daughter and now their son; and it was all Morpheus' fault.

As I watched this scene, I kept close to my hole. It all happened in a matter of minutes, but that was long enough for me to become a target. One of the Careers, the District One girl, managed to spot me. I guess I made myself an easy target, distracting myself with watching Meyer's death and leaving myself wide for an attack. Anyhow, she managed to come up behind me for a surprise attack. She was sporting a knife. With the way my outfit was, the only true damage the small knife could have done was if she aimed for my face. But she didn't. Instead she screamed just as she was about to bring the knife down onto my right shoulder. I reacted just in time to bring my arm up and stop her. There was some pain, but I had no intention to turn my attention from my attacker to my pain.

"Bitch!" she cursed when I blocked her attack.

"Humph!" I grunted as I struggled against her strength.

She didn't look it, but it felt like she had enough strength to possibly lift myself, along with Morpheus, Onyx, and maybe Rowan, all together. I knew she had some muscles, but upon struggling with her, I found out just how strong she truly was. Maybe it was just my wound, though I didn't know how bad it was, if at all enough to affect.

"Turquoise!"

The shout came from her district partner, Aren, who was racing from the mouth of the Cornucopia over to where we were. If I allowed for him to get close to me, I wouldn't stand a chance. One Career was bad enough; two would only screw me even more. In a moment of desperateness, I did the only thing that came to my mind. One of her hands was surprisingly close to my face, giving me a chance to try out my fail safe plan. I clenched down on her hand, biting her as hard as I could. I don't remember much, blame it on instinct taking over. I do remember an animalistic cry of pain come from her and her throwing the knife forward. After that I only remember darkness.

When I finally started to come back to reality, my consciousness coming back, I found myself in a cramped tunnel in pure darkness. There was absolutely no light, allowing me to assume that I was far enough away from the entrance to the surface by now. My eyes were quickly adjusting to work for the situation at hand. I had a little bit of an advantage here. My school back home had been training us, my classmates and myself, to work in the mines. That was the lifetime goal of mostly everyone in District Twelve; work in the mines. Unless your family owned a business, like the bakery or the clothing store, that was where you worked. We had constant trips to the local mine shafts. I had been underground before, so I wasn't afraid of the tight tunnels. My eyes have also grown used to the strange, unnatural darkness that seemed to lurk in them, so adjusting was quite simple.

As I had assumed, my eyes adjusted fairly easily to the darkness. While I didn't have cat eyes that could see everything, I could still see a bit better than before. I could manage to make out my own body I was looking down at and my close, close surroundings. And with as tight as the tunnel I was in, all my surroundings were extremely close. I strangely felt safe where I was. After the terror scene I had seen above, I guess any place where there were no other tributes would feel safe. And after what felt like hours of just sitting in my dark, damp tunnel, though being probably only a half hour or so, I heard the cannons announcing the deaths of the tributes in the bloodbath. Cannons usually aren't sounded during the bloodbath due to the amount of death and it would just get confusing. Those cannons signified the end of the worst part of the first day. I don't know what scared me more however; the fact that the bloodbath ended rather quickly or the fact there were only three of them.

_Who died?_ I wondered.

I also wondered how the Capital was reacting with only four deaths starting this Hunger Games off. I was getting worried just sitting there. I still felt close to the entrance to the tunnels and with only three deaths in the Bloodbath, the stronger tributes were surely feeling the bloodlust. Even if the tunnel I was in was small, quite small, I still felt exposed. If I could getting further into it, I would feel better. I went to continue crawling, but found a stinging pain in my right hand. I felt something warm covering it. I brought it close to my face and in the dim light my eyes seemed to somehow absorb, I could see a faint red liquid coating my hand. The knife Turquoise had tried to kill me with seemed to have gotten my hand, and it had cut me pretty well. I could just make out a long gash down my palm. I took off my jacket and ripped off part of one of my sleeves and wrapped it around my hand. Putting back on my jacket, I continued to crawl through the tunnel. It hurt like crazy, but somehow I managed. I never thought myself strong enough to getting through this type of pain. I mean, this wound was so bad I would have probably needed stitches, but I still managed to crawl through the tunnel.

I succeeded in getting further, though I don't know how far. It felt like a couple hours, but without looking at the sky I couldn't tell how long I was going for. The tunnel's size didn't change at all, making me feel a bit better. There were a few small tribute that could fit into the tunnel, but none of them were really much of a threat.

_I wonder if night is coming up soon…_

For now, I couldn't worry about that. I didn't have any water, food, or weapons. I also was wounded. What was I going to do? The ideas made me panic; even more so when the national anthem began to play.

_I guess it is night_, I thought.

"Fallen tributes."

The voice is the lady who counted down. I guess without the night sky being able to seen all the time the next best thing would be to tell the living tributes.

"Crystal McGuff from District Five…"

_Crystal died… How?_

The idea that she died caused me a bit of heartbreak. Maybe because she was district partner of Whitney.

"Acadia Ford from District Six. Meyer Welch from District Nine…"

Two deaths I already knew. The image of Acadia exploding came into my mind. It was bound to haunt my nightmares. That along with Meyer's death at the hands of Morpheus.

"Barberry Devon from District Ten…"

I didn't really know her nor did I remember her very much over the training and interviews. I vaguely remember not liking her, though I don't remember why.

The music came to end, signaling the end of the fallen tributes. Only four had died so far, causing me much concern. Sure I would prefer that mainly because I didn't want to see people die and also the more people there were, the less attention would be on me. But the fact that were only four deaths, that meant these Games were on the verge of being classified as "boring" by the Capital. Even with the gruesome deaths of Acadia and Meyer, people won't be satisfied.

"What now?" I mutter.

* * *

**Day one isn't finished yet, but it is coming up to the end. I will explain Barberry and Crystal's deaths more later.**

**Deaths in this Chapter:**

*Meyer Welch: Placed 23rd; Killed by Morpheus.

*Crystal McGuff: Placed 22nd; Cause unknown.

*Barberry Devon: Placed 21st; Cause unknown.


	17. Chapter 16

**Well, my landlord is a prickle. Anyway, for those who don't know yet, I am moving and with such comes a bit of an inconvenience. I won't be updating around those times as much. I should only be offline between March 28th to April 7th, but when it comes to moving, everything can be unpredictable. Also, I am trying to get my stuff together for the move, so that might stop me from updating in the next coming days. I know it stopped me from updating yesterday. Sorry about that. I hope to be able to write a little bit on the road, but like any writer on this website will tell you, that doesn't always work. I do promise that as soon as I find a place in my new home that I will update asap.**

* * *

_Chapter 16_  
_'Night'_

* * *

I didn't know how much time had passed since the Games had started, but with the announcement of the first day's deaths, I could guess that it was night time. I bet that the Careers weren't having the same issues as us tributes that fled to the tunnels. They probably were staying by the Cornucopia, hoarding the stuff they managed to keep. It hadn't looked like there was much stuff to begin with, so protecting them should be easy for them. I mean, among the few scatter nylon bags I say at the mouth, I could only make out a couple of weapons. I remember the one knife Turquoise used and the sword Morpheus used, but that was it. Not many tributes were fighting around the Cornucopia with weapons. Most either fought with their hands or maybe a nearby rock. That's what Styx did; he used a rock to beat the tributes that came at him. The idea thought that there were so few of weapons would make anyone worried however. That meant that you either had to steal a weapon or rely on your brute strength to make a kill. Survival would be harder, even down here in the narrow tunnels. Larger weapons may not be as useful down here, but a knife or a spear with a broken shaft, for the tight spaces, would have been welcomed.

"No! Stop!"

The voice cut off my train of thought. It was coming from the direction I was heading. It didn't sound like it was in my tunnel, instead echoing in from an adjacent one. The voice was harder to make out, but I could still tell it was female. She sounded so scared. She was shrieking at whatever terror was happening to her. I could only assume that that terror was another tribute.

"Stop it!"

Another voice joined in, this one stronger than the first voice but still having that feminine tone. I recognized this one a bit better. She had questioned everything Elijah had said during the interviews. Many of the prep teams found this behavior humorous, which was the main reason I remembered the voice. It was the girl from District Nine, Hazel Summers. It sounded like they were together, Hazel and the other girl, further down the way. Based on the echo, possibly in a larger tunnel than mine. I imagined Hazel standing there with those strong eyes of hers locked on to her enemy's. Even as a twelve-year old the brunette had spirit behind those emerald green eyes.

"I said to stop it now!" she shouted again.

I began to unconsciously move towards the sounds when a hand grabbed me from behind. I went to scream, but the boney hand that had grabbed me moved over my mouth. Instinctively I whipped around, ready to hurt whomever had just grabbed me, but stopped instantly upon seeing who the owner of the hand was.

"Whitney!" I said, not taking into account my volume.

She held her finger up to her lips, making the universal "quiet"-sign. I realized I was making it dangerous for us by not controlling my volume. It wasn't for the girl's screaming, we might have had an issue.

"I don't think you should go that way," whispered Whitney.

"Why? Shouldn't we try to help?" I asked.

I had expected of all people Whitney would be the one to want to help people in pain more than anyone else. But there she was, saying to flee. As I stared at her, I could vaguely make out tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked in a hush tone.

Whitney merely shook her head.

"Not here," she said before turning around and crawling in the opposite direction.

I stared at her back as she continued. She stopped a little further down and waved for me to follow her. I was unsure though. The screams of the one girl were getting louder and louder. She sounded like she was being tortured and it sounded like Hazel was being forced to watch.

"Hub!" Hazel shouted.

"Gaahhhhh!"

The shout came out in a gargle sound, like she was drowning in some sort of liquid. There didn't seem to be in water in these tunnels, so that only left one thing. Blood…

_Wait. Did she say Hub?_

Hub… The sweet, shy girl from District Three. I hadn't really gotten to know her all that well, but I still felt saddened to know she was gone. I knew that these were the Games; twenty-four tributes go in and only one victor comes out. I knew that I should be happy that competition was being taken out and for the fact that I didn't have to take her out myself. I knew that I should get rid of all my emotions in order to survive. But then why couldn't I?

Whitney was patiently waiting for me to follow her and I did. There was nothing else I could do. I couldn't help the dying Hub. I could help the tortured Hazel. I couldn't do anything. I felt useless and I didn't like it. What if they were Peony and some of my mates from back home? Would I still do nothing to help them? Argh! I hate asking myself these questions which I cannot answer. When I finally caught up with Whitney, she continued down the tunnel, behind where I had been. She takes a few turns down some equally narrow side tunnels. When she comes to a stop, it is in front of a dark hole in the wall. She crawls through. When I hesitate, I find a hand waving me in. I follow her inside, finding myself in a rather large cave-like room. She rolls a bolder that had been against the wall in front of the opening, blocking other people from entering. Once sealed off, she begins to light a fire in one of the corners. The sudden light from the fire made my eyes feel like they were burning along with the kindling, but I couldn't turn my face away from it. And when I finally did, it was to the crying Whitney.

"What happened?" I asked.

She looked up at me.

"I watched Crystal die. She was right in front of me and I couldn't do anything about it," Whitney explained. "Crystal and I were going to help each other make it to the top five before we split ways. We knew we were going to need a few of those bags around the stupid Cornucopia to be able to survive that long, so we split up and began to grab as many bags as we could in the confusion of the fight. I managed to get around without being noticed, but Crystal wasn't so lucky. One of the Careers, a rather large boy, came up behind her and grabbed her hair. I went to scream to warn her, but my voice wasn't working. The boy proceeded to take a sickle and…"

She hesitated as she was explaining Crystal's death. I felt that it was hard for her to see a friend go down, but it was important for her to talk about it. I wanted to know so I could help and I couldn't help without knowing.

"He took the sickle and swung it down. He ended up scalping her; taking off the top of her head. She was still alive when her body collapsed. As she was dying in a pool of her own blood, her eyes caught mine. I could see the pain in her brown eyes. She didn't have enough energy to do much else but toss me the two bags she carried. After that, she was gone."

As if to push the story even further, a gong rung out. It was really announcing the death of Hub, but it felt as if Crystal was dying once more.

"I was hiding here for the entire day, but remembered I had another friend," Whitney said, looking at me.

I felt privileged to be called her friend.

"I went out searching for you, but almost ran into Hazel and Hub," she continued. "They apparently had the same deal going on as I did with Crystal. But they also didn't make as far as planned. Your district partner and his friends-"

Morpheus! Of course. And friends? Styx was one of his alliance partners, but who else?"

"Um, the boy from District Six and the girl from District Seven," explained Whitney, who saw my confused expression.

Apparently Morpheus didn't care all that much about Acadia, as he replaced her quite easily. I remember something he said a long time ago back home at the district. When we were taking a trip to one of the mines, a little girl, no older than Peony, got scared of the dark. Many of us were trying to calm her down, except for Morpheus of course. He told her, "Everyone is replaceable". I thought it was horrible thing to say to a little kid, but apparently it was something he lived by. I knew he was just trying to survive, not just the Games but life. It's just, I didn't know if I could do that. But then would I even survive?

"Morpheus and the other two came up on Hazel and Hub and managed to grab and disarm them. Hazel, being Hazel, tried to fight back. She even got a bite out of Morpheus' hand."

I chuckled at the image of Morpheus' hand being scared because of some girl biting him. Served him right.

"The boy from District Six managed to pin her down. The girl from District Seven and Morpheus went on to torture Hub. That's where you came in. They were horrible. They had no restraint and no care for another human being. They are monsters."

She didn't have to tell me something I already knew. I knew Morpheus was bad. He had already killed Meyer.

Another gong… Hazel was probably dead. I wouldn't be sure until the next announcement.

"I have another question," I said.

Whitney nodded.

"Who killed Barberry?" I asked.

I wanted to know about as many of the deaths as possible. It felt only right to know so I could mourn for them. I knew that for at least a few us of here, not many people, if any, would be mourning our deaths, so I felt as if I needed to.

"I didn't see the face of the person who killed her; too focused on not getting caught," said Whitney.

_Of course. That would make sense, _I thought.

"But I did see the weapon sticking out of her back," she continued. "It was a spear. She seemed to die instantly."

At least there was one quick death next to Acadia's.

"There wasn't many weapons to begin with," she said. "I only saw about five, one of each."

Five weapons?! I had never heard of such a thing. Sure I heard of there being one kind of weapon, but usually there was multiple of them. I had never heard of five type of weapons with only one of each kind.

"There was a spear, a knife, a sword, a sickle, and an axe," said Whitney. "Though I could be mistaken, but I swear those were the only weapons."

Meaning the only long range weapon would be the spear. That was a good thing to know.

"We should probably get some sleep," I said.

I looked around.

"I can see you have no water. We should probably find some tomorrow so we don't get dehydrated," I suggested, receiving a nod from Whitney.

I curled up near the fire, as did Whitney. Despite the warmth from this morning, it was surprisingly chilly down in the tunnels, especially at night. It must've been the dark causing the cold. I had to get some sleep no matter what. We had to be at our best for tomorrow, ready for anything. Whitney was already asleep. I didn't blame her. She probably wanted to get as far away mentally from what she saw today, and dreaming was the best way. She was such a nice person; she didn't deserve to see any of this. No one really does. Not even Morpheus, despite my hatred that was growing for him.

* * *

**There it the end of that chapter. I explained how Crystal died, and with a little less detail, how Barberry died. Don't worry, we will face her killer. It may surprise you. It may not.**

**Deaths This Chapter:**

*Hub Bishop: Placed 20th; Killed by Morpheus and Hazel.

*Hazel Summers: Placed 19th; Killed by Morpheus, Hazel, and/or Styx.


	18. Chapter 17

**I have a second account! It's called **_**Saucy as a Unicorn**_** and I published my first non-SYOC story on it! Check the end of this chapter for more information.**

* * *

_Chapter 17_  
_'District Eight'_

* * *

It was hard to get any sleep. I don't think anyone would have been able to sleep easily knowing they were in a death match with seventeen other people. Even though Whitney fell asleep quickly, she didn't sleep peacefully. She tossed and turned numerous times throughout the night. Me, I found it hard to stay asleep. I kept waking up, drenched in my own sweat. I didn't remember what I was dreaming about when I woke up each time, but I have a guess. "Night" went by rather slowly. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. Oh and how the hours felt like days. It was never ending. I somehow managed to get some sleep, but I wasn't as rested as I should have been. Morning came when Whitney woke up, at least what I call morning down here in the constant darkness.

"Good morning," Whitney said, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.

"Morning," I said.

I didn't feel like talking. I didn't have enough energy it felt like. I needed to conserve what little energy I managed to maintain and save it for when I would need it most, when we found water. It was likely the Careers were near the biggest, and probably only, water source, so we would need to run quickly if something goes down. And that requires energy…

After a moment of awkward silence, Whitney finally talks.

"I thought about it," she said in a hushed tone. "There is a large body of water above us, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, maybe some of that water has made its way underground," she suggested.

It didn't hit me at first. Water underground? I hadn't really thought that that was a thing. But then I remembered. People in the mines would talk about groundwater, how they had to be careful. There were pockets underground, filled with everything from water to carbon or methane.

"Maybe," I answered.

I didn't want to get her hopes up, but there was a chance of finding some sort of water source under here. There is a chance we wouldn't, but it was all 50/50.

Whitney only smiled at her thought. We at least had a plan. I didn't know how we would find any source of water down here. It wasn't like it would be easy to track, like an animal with their trails or plants based on their growing patterns. But if we wouldn't have to go up above ground and deal with the Careers, I was glad.

We left our hiding place, pushing the rock back to cover our trail. Somehow Whitney had set up a system allowing her to remember where it was, even in the dark. Once our hideout was safe from prying eyes, we left in search of water.

* * *

You know you seem to grow tired quicker when on your hands and knees than when just walking. It's strange. We hadn't even traveled long before I felt like passing out. The tunnels we chose were small and narrow, where it was necessary to crawl to get through them. There was less of a chance of getting caught by some of the bigger tributes, and if we ran into some smaller tributes who took the same steps as us, I had the knife to help scare them away. Crawling however was tiring, especially when you don't get the best of sleeps. I was tired and know my hands and knees were sore. My hand felt like it was bleeding again. My wound had probably opened due to the excessive pressure put on it from crawling.

"I need to stop," I whispered.

After a couple of hours, I couldn't continue. I had to sit for a second and take the pressure off of my hand. Whitney seemed to understand and nodded. We put our backs together, leaning on each other and giving us the ability to see from both sides if an attack happened.

"My knees are skinned," Whitney whispered. "Even though the clothing, the rocks skinned my knees."

My knees were sore, but not skinned. Whitney had to have not been used to being in situations like this. I have crawled through tunnels in the mines. I never particularly liked it, but I have. I had also crawled through "tunnels" in the home to sneak in and out of places. My body has gotten used to stuff like crawling through difficult and hard places. If my hand hadn't been injured before, I probably would only be sore.

"I'm sorry," I manage to say.

I truly felt sorry for Whitney. She shouldn't be here. She was too nice. She deserved to be happy with her loved ones, surrounded by smiles. Not stuck here with me and skinned knees, surrounded my rocks and people ready to kill her. I didn't think it was appropriate for me to say anything more than "sorry", so I didn't. It wouldn't help either way.

"Thanks," Whitney said back.

A few seconds continued slowly as we leaned against each other. It was silent, but we didn't need to talk. Just having each other's backs spoke enough; we trusted each other. We didn't need to fill the time with words to help support each other, it was enough with having someone to lean on.

"I think we should get moving," I suggested.

"Yeah," Whitney said.

"Will your knees be okay?" I asked.

I turned and say the faint silhouette of the girl. I could see her hesitate a bit, but she slowly nodded. She didn't really have a choice but to continue, so I don't know why I asked. Actually, it was sort of rude for me to ask. She had no other choice, and there I was acting like she did. It just put her further into a corner. Still I asked because I felt concerned.

Without any other words, we continued forward. A couple of times the small tunnels would give way to large, room-like areas where other tunnels would meet. Those were the most dangerous. We tried to avoid them, but we couldn't always. When we would come up on them with no other route, we would wait to see if anyone was waiting to jump unsuspecting tributes that would pass by. When given the idea of everything being clear, we would dart to the next small tunnel we planned on using. I would think someone would be in one of these places, especially someone like Morpheus, but yet I was always proved wrong. Well, not always…

* * *

Dancing fire… An image we were greeted with at the end of one of the tunnel. It was a large, high-vaulted room-like structure. What was different from this "room" compared to the others was that unlike the previous shadow drenched rooms, this one was full illuminated. Torches were set up next to the mouth of every tunnel that came into it. In the center was a large fire. Someone had set this up as their camp and it was not hard to guess who. They were already there.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath as I say him.

Morpheus. Why did it have to be him? With him was Styx and Harper West. They seemed irritated. I didn't know at what. They were facing something that was hidden to me by their bodies. I could tell from their body language they were not too thrilled, whatever it was. Finally, the guessing game was done when Harper West finally moved out of the way to reveal the girl from District Eight.

"Who's that?" I whisper as quietly as possible to Whitney.

"Lacey something, I think," she answers back in her quietest voice.

Lacey was kneeling there over a bloody figure, her face contorted into that of pure sorrow. She was holding the figure's hand, calling out something softly to him. I hadn't heard a gong, so it was not dead… Yet.

"Aidan," I heard her say, over and over.

Her dark haired district partner was dying before her eyes.

"Shit!" Morpheus said. "You think you can steal from us?"

"Please," Lacey pleaded. "He's in pain."

She just wanted him to die quickly. I could see it in her eyes. Though we were far from each other, I knew.

"Whatever," said Morpheus. "Styx…"

Styx nodded. Morpheus handed him the sword. Aidan looked badly injured. Gashes could be seen across his back and shoulders. It looked like they had been hacking at him and yet he was still gripping onto life. It was saddening. And with a mighty swing, Styx ended that struggle for life, slicing into Aidan's neck.

"Ahh!" Lacey screamed as she though Aidan's lifeless body down.

She fell backwards as Styx stood over her. A gong rang out announcing Aidan's death. It seemed to just add to the horror of the scene unfolding in front of me. Styx threw up the sword and took a swing down at Lacey. She rolled off to the side just in time not to be killed by the strong slice, but was not quick enough to avoid it completely. She was hit in the arm by the blade, the sharp metal slicing into her muscle. Blood trailed on the ground as she continued to roll. Once away from the group, she scattered to get up. The slice was not as bad as I first thought, but blood continued to pour out. She grabbed the wound and stared at the group.

"Get her!" shouted Harper.

Styx shot towards her. It appeared to take all of her energy just to run away. She was running for one of the tunnels close to Whitney and mine. Whitney pulled back, wanting to run, but I had to watch. I had to know if she could get away. But it was for nothing…

Styx threw the sword. Threw the damn sword! He threw it at Lacey's back. I didn't think I would ever see something like that, a sword being used like a throwing knife, but I did. It hit Lacey with all of its weight, pushing her forward onto the ground. The blade stuck straight out of her back. Blood slowing began to seep from the wound as a gong sounded quickly. She died instantly.

Styx walked up to the now dead Lacey and pulled the sword straight out of her back. At least I didn't have to see her face as she laid there.

"Myrtle!"

My name being shout out scared me. I shook my head, sending me back to reality. Apparently my figure had just faintly been illuminated by the nearby torches just enough for Morpheus to see me.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath as I turned around and quickly crawled through the tunnel.

Whitney was a little ahead of me, going as fast as she could, while I quickly caught up. I could hear the other behind us trying to figure out a plan. All I could do was curse myself for being so careless.

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**So about my new account… A link to **_**Saucy as a Unicorn**_** can be found on my profile. There is the first chapter posted for my newest, non-SYOC story, 'Self Image'. If you visit the story and review, I will do something with your characters (draw them, write a special story, etc.)[my choice]. It is a Hunger Games story and I want people's opinions on it. So please visit it. I will be posting Chapter Two here soon, probably later tonight when everyone is asleep and I get some time to think.**

**Deaths This Chapter:**

*Aidan Wright: Placed 18; Finished off by Styx.

*Lacey Stitch: Placed 17; Killed by Styx.


	19. Chapter 18

**The contest is still going on. I have decided the end date for the contest will be July 10th, which is a Friday. Be sure to review "Self Image" on my second account, Saucy as a Unicorn; as well as fav/follow it. There will be prizes (surprise prizes) for the top three with the most points. I have chapter three posted and chapter four is coming soon.**

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_Chapter 18_  
_'Comrade'_

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I had to split up from Whitney. It was the only way she was going to be safe. They had only seen me, so she was in the clear. But if they found her with me, she would be killed instantly. I wouldn't put it past Morpheus to do so. Whitney had been uneasy about splitting up, but I managed to convince her. I had instructed her to go back to the hiding spot. Morpheus, Styx, nor Harper would be able to find it, and if they could, they wouldn't be able to fit in through the opening. I wasn't very sure I would be able to find my way back, but I guess that was my punishment for being foolish enough to get caught.

Now I was darting through the tunnels, hearing the trio close in behind me. I could hear their footsteps, their shouts, their threats. Their anger was quickly escalating as I made them continue their chase. If I was going to die, I wasn't going to make it easy for them. I was getting turned around in the winding tunnels, but I was sure I wasn't the only one. If I could just give them the slip for five seconds, I could easily lose them in the confusion.

"Myrtle! Stop fleeing already!" shouted Morpheus. "You're dead anyway. Just give up!"

Who would have guessed someone from District Twelve could be as evil as a Career?

Their footsteps were getting closer and closer, while the tunnels were getting wider and wider. I was no longer having the advantage of being smaller in a tight space.

"Crap," I muttered to myself. "What do I do?"

I continued to look around as I ran. I dived in and out of tunnels, but my pursuers continued to give chase. I didn't dare look back to see how quickly they were closing in. I came to a sudden stop. I couldn't continue.

"Finally give up?" asks a voice behind me… Harper's.

No, but I couldn't continue even though I truly wanted to. Dead end, emphasis on the dead part. In front of me was a pit, no an abyss. I bottomless void stretching a least four meters in diameter. I looked down into the shadows below, staring into what seemed like the entrance to Hell. There was no way to cross it, no way I was going down it, and no way to go around it. I was utterly and most completely screwed.

Morpheus slowly walked up behind me, finally catching what made me stop. I could hear him give a quizzical "hmm" as he thought about something. What? I didn't want to know.

"It's just a mine shaft, Myrtle," he says, slowly closing the distance between us. "You're used to this, remember?"

Suddenly I can feel his hand on my shoulder. I am already close to the ledge of the pit, but his hand is slowly pushing me closer. I try to brace myself against the unwanted movement, but he is much stronger than me.

"What? Don't you like the darkness and the mines? It reminds you of home right?" Morpheus asks.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I shout.

My voice echoes through the pit. I probably just alerted everyone to where we are at, but it doesn't matter to me. Actually I hoped someone would come a teach Morpheus a lesson; him and Styx and Harper.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Morpheus repeats back sarcastically. "I'm just trying to survive. There is nothing wrong with that, Myrtle. You should know that. These Games are all about survival of the fittest. Nothing more, nothing less. People like you, the weak and unworthy, die, while the people like me keep on living."

His grip becomes stronger and I can already feel a bruise starting to form. I hold back the cry of pain. I don't want to give him tears. It would only make him feel stronger.

"You're pathetic," he continues. "No wonder your parents didn't want you."

I bite my lip. While I didn't particularly care for my birth parents one way or another, I didn't like people talking about them. They had no right to talk about my personal life, especially something like that. I wanted to turn around and kill him. I wanted to rip his tongue out and feed it back to him. I wanted to, but my fear outweighed my anger. There was three of them and one of me. I was clearly outnumbered. Besides, the grip Morpheus had on my shoulder, while just technically a grip, was taking all of my attention. It was really hurting me. I felt like his fingers were going through my skin to my bones.

"Screw you!"

The voice was not my own. It was not any of the trio. It was a new voice, a masculine voice. I have obviously heard it before, from the interviews and watching the reapings back. It was someone I had looked at closely though. We were similar and I took note of that. I took note of his strength and his independence. We were both in the same situation; not only through the Hunger Games, but also the same situation back home. It was Buck.

I hadn't seen Buck since day one. He had disappeared under my radar that day when we started. I had been too focused with everything else that I hadn't notice him. It didn't seem to really matter. I figured I wouldn't ever see him again. Either he would be killed by some other tribute or I would be. He must have been hiding, like many other tributes. I don't know how he was able to hide in such an open area, but he figured it out somehow.

Buck darted out from the darkness and rammed Morpheus in the side. Morpheus let go of me, pushing me forward in the process, as he fell to the side with Buck on top of him.

"Ahh!" I screamed as I fell forward towards the pit.

I tumbled down into the emptiness, only stopping myself from being completely swallowed by the nothingness by grabbing a hold of a rock with a single hand. I was dangling there for my life as I heard the fighting continue.

I heard Buck and Morpheus grunting as they punch each other and fought. Morpheus was giving out commands for Harper and Styx to join in. Harper sounded uneasy about joining in at first, a hesitation in her voice. I don't know where that came from as the Harper West I saw during the interviews and training was completely confident in everything she did; not showing any doubt about anything. Styx however sounded all too ready for the fight. I could hear him jump in to the fray.

_Looks like they forgot about me_, I thought. _Better take this chance._

I climb up the side and somehow manage to get back to the platform. I guess all that climbing came in handy. When I reached the top again I found the sight of Buck, Styx, and Morpheus fighting. Harper was off to the side, still deliberating on what she wanted to do. It didn't take long for her to figure that out however. Her scanning teal eyes met mine and with a single second I could tell what she was thinking. She charged me, not concerned about the major pit right behind me. I side stepped out of the way, hoping she would just plummet to her death and I wouldn't have to deal with her. I was not so lucky. She was quick. She easily was able to react quickly enough and avoid falling. With one swift motion, she changed her footing to prevent falling and continued to charge at me. I ended up having to keep moving just to avoid her. She would just not stop.

"Why wouldn't you just die?!" she shouted.

She had looked angry. Well, she had looked angry already after having to chase me through the tunnels, but now she looked even angrier. She was steaming.

"I will not "just die" so easily," I said.

I remembered the knife I had stashed. I would have to get close to her to use it, but it didn't look like she was going to let me get away. It was either die or knife, and I picked the latter. I sneakily pulled out my knife, making sure Harper didn't catch on to what I was doing. I began to let her close the space between us. I didn't want to make it seem like I had a plan. All the while we were doing this, the boys were duking it out. Buck was holding his own. To my surprise, and I think everyone else's, Buck was able to fight two, very strong, guys at once.

Harper closed the distance between us in no time. I readied my weapon as she leaped forward. It was like slow motion as I thrust my knife in the air. Harper's body flew right into my knife. I got the side of her abdomen, just below the rib cage. The knife didn't go all the way through, but upon pulling it out, blood did appear.

"Urgh," Harper grunted as she staggered back.

She was hurt, badly. I could have finished her off. I could have…

GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

A noise filled the air as the ground around us began to shake. I, along with Harper, backed up, taking shelter further back in the tunnel. The boys even stopped, looking up the pit. Without much warning, blue liquid rushed down from above, turning the pit into a forced waterfall. It was water alright, where it came from was still a mystery however.

Buck looked at the waterfall, as did Morpheus. But Styx took this time of confusion to strike. He had the sword the trio had acquired. He lurched forward, thrusting the sword straight into Buck's chest. Buck gasped as blood began to pour from his mouth. He turned around, sword still in chest, and looked Styx straight in the eye.

"Go… To… Hell…" Buck managed.

I could see a wide smirk on Buck's face, covered his a layer of his own blood he was coughing up. With no time to react, Buck grabbed a hold of Styx's arm and fell backwards. I could hear Styx's screaming as he was pulled into the abyss. It didn't last long, as the water drowning it out.

Harper stared in disbelief at the scene, while Morpheus shook his head constantly, trying to make sense of it all. I however ran. I needed to get away.

It's funny how we were looking for water and I found it.

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**Big news. I found a place to live and that means I'll have my own room. With my own room comes silence and privacy, and that translates to more updates!**

**What did you guys think of that? Please let me know in the reviews. Also be sure to check out "Self Image" on my second account. Link to the account can be found on my profile. I also have another story on the account. An Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin story called "Roots". Check that out too!**

**Deaths This Chapter:**

*Buck: Placed 16th; Killed by Styx/drowning.

*Styx Draco: Placed 15th; Killed by Buck/drowning.


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